Deep Within
by Indiana Beach Bum
Summary: My name is Stan Marsh. I am eighteen years old, and this is my story. Implied and situational SLASH. Read to find out!
1. Always On My Mind

Okay, this is my next experimentation. Probably should be doing more homework…but I got inspired. See, I am answering my OWN challenge and mixing my own feelings, life experiences, and personality traits with that of Stan. So, in essence, Stan is me. To an extent. Of course, there will still be SP Stan in it to make it South Parkish, and of course I will add some spice in there for some flavor, but you get the point. My greatest friend in the world (Dansyngqueen) is a character in this story, and some of my other friends are in here too. Playing many important roles. They are my inspiration. And for those of you who are curious, NO, she isn't Kyle's character. Anyway, this is totally different from my last fic, so check it out, see what you think! It has more personal meaning to me because…well…it's me.

The entire story is from Stan's POV.

Chapter 1- **Always On My Mind**

A wise man once told me that deep within your soul, there are a whole bunch of secrets just aching to be freed. Some of them you don't even know about. Some of them, you don't _want _to know about. They tear you apart, but you know that they may only cause damage if they were to be unleashed onto the world. No wait. Scratch that. No wise man. My dad told me this.

At any rate, I believe it. I live everyday believing it. There are some things better left unsaid. And so this is my story.

My name is Stan Marsh, and I am eighteen years old. Just turned it three weeks ago. I live with my parents in this hick town in Colorado called South Park. I have a raging bitch of a sister named Shelly who is in college now, and an old dog named Sparky. I have a grandpa living with us who always calls me Billy, and he just won't die. He wants to. Always tries to. But he's still here, barely living. My mom thinks he may finally on his last leg, though.

I go to South Park High, which is a relatively new school for the area. North Park used to bus us all in, but four years ago, our town grew twice in size due to some hot shot salesman pawning off our quiet little mountain town to the general public. Saying we have nice ski slopes or something laughable like that. Now we have six stoplights instead of one. Nothing special, but enough to fuck up my life.

I'm the current star quarterback of the Cow's football team, making the only recreational time I have devoted to the damn sport. You gotta love it. I mean, you gotta eat, sleep, and breathe football if you are knee-deep in it all the time like I am. I have been part of that team since I was too young to remember, and they stuck me on varsity two years ago, making me the youngest varsity player around.

I guess you could say I'm pretty well liked inside the school walls. Most of its due to my skills out on the field. But I wouldn't really say I have too many close, close friends except for one. Kenny McCormick. My good buddy since grade school.

Kenny is what you could consider "poor". He's always struggling to keep up the cash flow. Complaining he doesn't make enough at the hick-infested restaurant he serves at. Oddly enough, he seems to have enough money to make weekly visits to the mall's arcade. I love the guy, but he needs to learn money management before he winds up powerless and inside a cardboard box.

His parents are worth next to shit on that subject though, so I can't expect too much. His dad's a deadbeat loser that didn't deserve to procreate, while his mom is an insincere sweetheart without a backbone. Kenny's never had really the best of circumstances. He went through a couple phases when he was younger, experimenting with all sorts of crazy shit, not caring about anything, including himself. Now that he's older and getting ready to move out on his own, he's made a vow to himself to never become like his dad. So far, he's turning out to be one hell of a guy. And I'm proud of him.

He claims to be a struggling musician so that he can get chicks. They take one look at his guitar and see him attempt to play it (he only knows a chord or two), and they swarm around him. It's his gift. It doesn't hurt that he is what girls refer to as "OH MY GOD" hot. They get this really funny high-pitched squeal when they first see him. Like he is one of the world wonders or something. And then they crowd around each other, taking turns to steal glances and try to win his heart. He doesn't see it though. He thinks he is a loser. And that girls just don't like him. He just doesn't see it. He doesn't see what I see.

He and I really seem to have hit it off. We really only started palling around so much a few years ago, but its grown from there. It's always just us two—people get mad sometimes that we are always together. They think we come as a package deal. You can't get one without the other. But I can't help that he's the person I'd like to spend most of my time with. They don't understand what its like to have a really great friend that you want to share all of your experiences with. Someone who gets just how incredibly nerdy you are, and doesn't care. Because they are just as nerdy. And I don't mean that in a bad way. Maybe they are just jealous. It doesn't matter though. Kenny and I don't give a shit what they think. We have fun together anyway.

He and I used to both belong to an awesome, unstoppable group of four back in elementary school. I was one those kids that everyone looked up to, because my three friends and I were cool as hell. We didn't even have to act that way either. We did our own thing, and for some reason, it usually attracted the people around us.

As middle school came and went, my group broke down, branching our own separate ways. I don't know, we just grew apart, I guess. It's sad when you think about it. Not all is lost, but it's never been the same. Kenny and I stuck around, while the other two just faded into the background of my dreary life.

Back when it was the four of us, Kenny actually _wasn't_ my best friend. Back in childhood, that position was filled by someone else. Someone I used to cherish as my SUPER best friend, and we promised each other that would never change. Eh, but I guess its impossible to keep such a promise. Things change, you know? And so did our friendship.

He still walks the halls of my school. I see him everyday. I'm not complaining about it. But every now and then I sit and wonder, what the hell happened to us? When did we break that promise? When did I let Kyle fade into the background of my life?

Kyle Broflovski. The coolest guy you'll ever meet, just because he is. As smart as a rocket scientist, more laid back than a stoner on vacation. Listens to records. On a record player. Interested in philosophy. Can hold a conversation with a professor from a prestigious university.

Kyle Broflovski. Still, to this day, makes up the entire Jewish teenage community. Him and his little brother, Ike.

Kyle Broflovski. The kid with the rich, red curly hair, bright green eyes, and the most enchanting smile. He's so damn cute because of his little kid features. He's shorter than most _freshmen_ boys. I feel like a giant hovering over his 5'5" frame.

Kyle Broflovski. My former best friend who traded me in for some newbys that came in with the tourists. We still hang out. But its nothing like it used to be.

Kyle Broflovski. The one name I can't get out of my head, no matter how hard I try.

Kyle Broflovski. The person who is always on my mind.

Kyle Broflovski. The guy I think I'm falling for.

---

Don't ask me how it happened. I can't really draw a line in the mess that is my life and pinpoint when I started looking at him differently. I guess you could say it just kind of evolved to that point. Naturally.

And I'm so fucking confused about it. I must be out of my mind to think—or to hope—that anything could happen between us. I'm just a stupid jock who pounds out moderately good grades. And he's…Kyle Broflovski.

I'm not the only one that holds him high. Ask anyone. Ask Kenny! He'll tell you Kyle is cool. He actually feels the same way I do. Just not quite as strongly.

I tell Kenny everything. I remember the first conversation. The one where I confessed my feelings to him:

"Hey, Kenny, I have to tell you something." He looked at me with intrigue, and awaited my continuance. I nervously swallowed, delaying the inevitable. I had already gotten this far. There was no going back.

"Kyle is cool," I said, shifting directions. Kenny just nodded.

"I mean, Kyle is real cool."

Kenny looked at me strangely and nodded more dramatically. We were in his bedroom, and his eyes were plastered to a girl magazine that he bought for me for my birthday, and I turned around and left it at his house knowing full well he'd get more use out of it than I ever would.

"I mean," I stuttered. "Kyle is awesome."

I am really bad at telling people what I want to say.

Kenny looked up from his pile of drool in a bikini. "What's your point, Stan?"

I approached the subject with care. I didn't want Kenny to react unexpectedly at the news I was about to slam him with.

"Ken, I think I might…I think…" I glanced to him for approval to keep going. "I might like Kyle for more than…more than you do."

Needless to say, he was shocked. But he supported me. Listened to my story, and lent any advice he could give. Which wasn't much, considering the situation. Kenny's such a great guy. Always there when I need to talk about this shit. I don't know where I'd be without him. I sure as hell couldn't bottle it up inside me. I'd explode!

I've told a few other people. People I KNOW I can trust. Not Eric Cartman, that's for damn sure. He's unfortunately the fourth member of my former best friends clique in grade school. That miserable fatty was put on this earth to inflict pain and misery to anyone who crosses his evil path. I will feed myself to rats with a gold plated spoon before that asshole ever finds out.

I told Jimmy, this awesome guy in our class. When we were little, he used to have this horrible stuttering pattern, and it took him a thousand years to get out a sentence. But in middle school, he transferred to another school, and attended a few workshops, and that kid can now talk up a storm. He's one hell of a comedian. Makes me laugh all the fucking time. I told him one night when he was going through a horrible break up with his shady girlfriend of a few years. It just slipped out. But Jimmy, as much of a talker as he is, has stayed silent with it. I know he can see what I'm going through.

I've debated whether to express my feelings to my parents. I know I can trust them, and I don't doubt that, in the end, they would be 100 percent supportive. As much as Kenny. I'm just not sure I want to cause unnecessary grief in the family. I don't want to burden them with that kind of information. I mean, I'm not gay. I've never even looked at another guy this way before, much less felt what I feel right now. There's just something special about this case. Why is it just Kyle?

Oh yeah. I think I should mention something. Something that puts a twist to this whole screwed up situation.

Kyle is gay.

Yep. A raging homo. Self-proclaimed. Came out three years ago. He's had boyfriends. Matter of fact, he just got out of a pretty serious relationship. But Kyle, being as incredibly cool as he is, is really accepted in our school. Ask me if South Park could have handled fags a few years ago, I would have said hell no. But Kyle has single-handedly changed this image. He's not a fag at all. He simply has a different life preference.

So that's my story. That is the situation. I have no idea where to go from here, or how to deal with it. I live with this constant burden day in, day out, of my life. It only gets worse. I've thought about telling him, but I don't think he looks at me that way. Rule #1, you can't assume that all gays think you are attractive, right? Even if he did, would he ever want to date me?

Could I ever date him?

I try to imagine what its like to kiss him. Make out with him. I'd crush his tender body under my monster 6' physique. We'd look so fucking funny together. Too weird.

Nope, I can't picture us together. And I can't bring myself to telling him. Possibly ruining the friendship we do have. Which I make sure is steadily growing more and more each day.

Goddammit, this sucks. I hate knowing what I know and not being able to do anything about it. It's like what my dad said…" you know that it can only cause damage if it were unleashed onto the world." And so I stay silent. Letting it eat away at my insides.

If Kyle were a girl, I'd have no problem playing the cutesy games. I'd playfully flirt, smile a lot, and do the normal stuff to get him to think I'm really cool. I'd listen to everything he has to say, ask him questions about stuff I already know, just to get him to talk to me. I'd try my hardest to come off as a comedian, but at the same time, be myself so I wouldn't be falsely advertising. I'd go out of my way to be in his way every step of the way.

But I can't do that shit with Kyle. He's a guy for Christ sake! And he's my friend. AND he already knows everything there is to know about me. And I with him. So I'm just stuck. Stuck in a rut.

Once again, he's all that I've thought about today. The sun has gone down, and tomorrow I have a big history test that I haven't even cracked the book open to study for. Kenny will surely pop quiz me over lunch, but that's not the point.

The point is…I can't get Kyle off my mind. Every time I'm around him, my heart skips a beat. I get warm inside when he asks me to hang out. I can actually feel myself blushing when he smiles at me. And there are those times, every once in a while, that I think his smile lasts longer than what it would if he didn't feel the same. Immediately, I push those ridiculous thoughts out of my head. I am just another straight guy to him. One of his friends.

Whatever, I'm going to bed now.

I get to see him again tomorrow morning. We have Spanish class together. I've actually memorized his schedule so I know when to expect him. Its not a surprise that way, but I get to prepare myself to see him. I know it may be lame, but this is all I have for now. I hold onto it. It makes me happy. Seeing Kyle makes me happy.

This thought will make my drift off into dreamland a much more peaceful ride. I clench my pillow tightly, cuddle up in my warm electric blanket, and smile. I can already feel the length of the next day growing longer as my eyelids droop, gradually shutting out any moonlight that shines on my face.

We'll see what tomorrow brings.


	2. Just Another Day

This is a fast update this time, I know. It won't always be like this, seeing as I am nearing finals. It's really hard NOT to write something so quickly when it is so personal, though. So I'm going to do my best to balance out work with pleasure. For those of you who are into this story (which I thank you much), pray that the work doesn't overload me so that I can reward myself with writing this. Okay, enough with the lame introduction.

Once again, a big thanks to my dear reviewers, and to all readers…here you go!

Chapter 2- **Just Another Day**

"Stan, it's time to get up for school!" I hear my mother yelling through my thick door, and I know she's right on the other side.

Ugh, I don't want to get up! I want to lay here and think about Kyle. His heartwarming smile, mesmerizing eyes, cute clusters of freckles…

I imagine him lying on the other side of me. I pretend as though he's there, and the smile on my face returns.

I do this quite often. Especially at night. When I'm alone. And no one hears me. But then I get all aroused, and end up being louder than what I should have been anyway. Cursed hormones. I fucking hate having to deal with them.

I hate dealing with morning wood too. And that's what I got right now. One step into my room, and my mom might get decapitated, I'm that hard. Sucks, there's nothing you can about it. It doesn't help when you wake up and automatically start thinking about that one person either.

I'm sorry; I know that's too much information. That's what Kenny says. He's uncomfortable talking about shit like that. All the guys talk to him about masturbation just to get a reaction from him, and he gets all shy. Its funny, we all do it. I'm sure he's done it. I'm sure Kyle's done it. Kyle probably does it a lot. I wonder if he's doing it right now.

"STAN!" My mother yells more forcefully. I heard her the first time!

Morning is the worst time of day, let me tell you. Waking up when you know you should have went to bed earlier, but you were doing stupid shit instead makes you really want to crawl inside a hole and never come out. If that hole were my bed, I'd definitely have no problem with that. The most horrible task to accomplish is literally getting out of bed. You're snuggled all nice and warm underneath your covers. It's like your own personal world under there. It's private, comfortable, and familiar. I don't know, when I leave my bed, I get sad. Mostly cause I know I won't be able to get into it until much, much later.

Football during the summer kicks my ass. I have to wake up at 5:30 to be at 6 AM morning practice, and I'm there until 9. That's on a good day. Those are primetime sleeping hours that I give up to play the addicting sport. I'm glad we're in school now. No more morning practices. And now that I'm a senior, I'll never have to deal with them EVER again! Yay!

I silently rejoice.

"Stanley Marsh, answer me this instant!"

Okay, okay mom. Don't get your panties in a bunch; I'm working on it.

I mumble something inaudibly. You must realize, for me to fully function, it's going to take me at _least_ a half hour.

I hear her growl her morning growl. We do this every morning. She comes to my room and tries to wake me up, I fall back asleep again. I don't know why she gets angry. It happens EVERY TIME. We tried alarms. I shut them off and sleep through it. I told you, I suck in the morning.

"Stan, that is it. You need to accept some of your own responsibility, young man. I will NOT be doing this again."

She says that every morning too.

"I'm leaving, and I will not come back up here. Kenny will pick you up, and he'll just have to drag you out of bed cause I'm not doing it anymore I tell you I" and she mumbles this to herself all the way down the hallway. Oh yeah! Its Kenny's turn to pick me up today. We alternate. And he does get pissed when he has to sit in my driveway for a thousand minutes until I come out. Oh no. No no. That's me. Kenny does that to ME. He could honestly care less if I'm late. So fuck it, I'm sleeping for another twenty minutes.

Damn, it just got bright in here. I can see it through my eyelids.

HOLY SHIT! My mom just threw off all of my covers and now I'm huddling in a tight little ball for two reasons. One, its freezing in this house, and two, there is no way she wants to see what I have to hide under the covers. That would just be awkward. "MO-OM!" I whine.

"Wake UP, Stanley!" She is only half angry this time. Because something is distracting her. I think she just saw….it. That would explain why she gave me a really odd look and then speed walked out of the room. Ahahaha.

From now on, I'm using my penis as a weapon. A weapon so that she'll never do that again.

All right, enough screwing around. I screw around too much. I'm getting up, already.

As I sit up, I do my morning routine of yawns and stretches until my stomach hurts from exercising it too much. After about five minutes, I scoot over to the right side of the bed and get up. Its not like an obsession or anything, I just realized one day I always get up on the right side. Ooh the floors are freezing. I need my slippers.

That's right, I wear slippers. You got a problem with it? I didn't think so.

They are red. They match my gym shorts.

So then I go to shower, and wow, it feels amazing. There is nothing like a steamy hot shower in the morning to wake you up. Sometimes I don't get up in time, and I feel groggy all day. Kenny told me his theories on how showering is almost like taking a nap—gives you the energy you need. And now I can't get enough.

I've been here for like five minutes, and the damn thing still won't go down. And I still feel very aroused. Hey! I haven't thought about Kyle since waking up this morning. I'm doing better! Or so I think. Because now I'm thinking about him again. And now I know what I have to do…

I cry out as I shoot my release into the stream of the shower, watching it rinse down the drain. I close my eyes and breathe a sigh of relief. Yep, showers are awesome.

Getting ready has never been a chore for me. I'm not a girl, so it doesn't take me that long to decide what to wear. I usually walk to my closet, pull out one of the first things I see, which is usually a T-shirt. I like the fitted kind. They show off my sensational bod.

Haha, oh…and I wonder why I don't have a girlfriend.

It's not that I want one, really. Obviously. No, but really. I've had my fill of girls for a while. I've had two serious relationships, and they both ended really badly. I'm not one to get over things very well, and I've carried them with me throughout the years. I know I'm more mature for it, because I've learned from my mistakes. But now I honest to God don't want a relationship.

With a girl.

There's only one person that I could see myself being together with. And I really can't see myself together with him at all. Its one of those weird phenomenon, where it wouldn't be imaginable to happen until it actually happens. Then you go from there.

Man, relationships suck. I'm not a fan. At least not for a while. I've had enough bad experiences with the opposite sex to steer me clear from girls until I find one that is up to the task of figuring me out. And loves me for being as difficult and confusing and independent as I am. Only then will I start to look at this mystery girl as a potential partner.

I feel bad, because I know that there is someone out there that likes me. Matter of fact, I think she likes me a lot. Her name is Wendy, and she is one of my best friends. Probably my BEST girl friend. We hang out all the time, her, me, and Kenny. Kenny thinks she's pretty cool too, but sometimes we get the feeling she just comes places with us to be around me. No matter if she wanted to do the activity we do or not. And its not that I don't like her, cause I do. She's an awesome chick. But I just don't like her like her. Besides, we see each other at school everyday. I would hate for it to end badly and risk losing a perfectly good friend. So that's where we'll stay. Friends.

Like Kyle and me.

I hear a beep in the driveway, and I know at once that its Kenny. He doesn't even bother coming in anymore, because he knows he's just going to sit downstairs and wait for me. I'm pretty good at not being late, but when I am…I take the cake. I scurry about my bedroom, slipping on my shoes, which is an odd concept because they are sneakers. I just slip them over my heel. My mom scolded me for doing that when I was younger. "You wear them out quicker that way, Stanley," she would say. Obviously, that doesn't bother me. Then I tear my room apart looking for my books and assignments for the day. If only I were more organized, I wouldn't have to spend half the day looking for stuff I lost yesterday. You can't even look in my room without getting the urge to gag. I'm a very disorganized person. That, or I'm just too lazy to clean up after myself.

I run downstairs, hearing my stomach growl, and know I'm going to regret not eating breakfast later. I have the last lunch period of the day, and it's not until 12:30. I feel bad for the people in the first period though. They eat lunch at 10:45 in the fucking morning. By the time 3:00 rolls around, their stomachs are starting to eat out its inner lining.

Kenny is in that lunch period. So is Kyle.

I don't really see them too much during the day. I have two classes with Kenny, and one of them is study hall so we just goof off until we get reprimanded by the battle-ax with a beehive Mrs. Harper. How she is married, I will never know. The other class we have together is World Literature. I actually pay attention in that class, cause the teacher is awesome. And Kenny likes to read, so he's always inaccessible to talk to. I've never been one for reading, but I can appreciate a good book. If it weren't for Mr. James, though, I don't think that class would be worth my time.

I only have one class with Kyle, and that's Spanish. We sit next to each other on the left side of the classroom where all the windows are. Kyle doesn't really ever seem to listen, but when he's picked to answer a question, he ALWAYS knows that answer. Always. He's a fucking genius, as far as I'm concerned. I spend the period gazing dreamily at the side of his face, making mental notes of his features. He has an adorable profile. Okay, when I say I'm gazing dreamily, its not like my head-propped-on-my-knuckles-leaning-over-the-desk-drooling type of dreamily gaze. I just appreciate him. A lot.

I'm not sure if he knows how much I stare at him. Part of it is because there is nothing better to do in that lame class. But yeah, most of it is probably due to the fact I have an insane crush on that guy. I can't stop staring. He's so cute. Like a little boy. But his features are so mature. It's hard to explain.

He notices me looking at him, and sends a smile my way. This immediately ties my insides into a knot, and I freeze. Its okay though, cause the longer he returns my gaze, the more I realize he is mocking the teacher with his mouth and gesturing that he is talking too much with his hand. That was a close one. PHEW! I can breathe again.

A situation like this is not uncommon. Not by a long shot. I constantly get this overwhelming feeling that he is looking right back at me, gazing dreamily. But then I shake that thought out of my head. Its part of my optimism, and I fucking hate it. Because I'm going to be let down that much harder when that time comes and he does reject me. I try my best not to let my emotions run crazy like they did when I was little.

My friend Wendy and I used to date in grade school. And by date, I mean not talk to each other, not hang out type thing. But every time she tried to kiss me, I'd throw up all over her. It wasn't just vomit either. I went all out with the hideously gruesome upchuck sound, and I swear my puke could have won a long jump contest because it would travel far distances. I mean, this poor girl was doomed from the minute she walked in the door. When she broke up, I had the most awful time of my life up to that point, cause I realized how much I truly liked her and never showed it. Hell, I'm surprised she hung on for that long. She had to have washed her clothes, like, every day.

My first kiss was a girl named Katie who was in my sixth grade biology class. She invited me to my first co-ed birthday party, and we played spin-the-bottle. She kissed me for two seconds, and I fell head over heels in love with her. I followed her around like a lovesick puppy, leaving her notes and chocolates by her locker. She didn't really acknowledge my existence, but I still carried her books and opened the door for her and everything. One day, she turned around to me in the hallway in the middle of where all of my friends were, and screamed "STOP FOLLOWING ME AROUND STEVE! I DON'T EVEN LIKE YOU!" I cried right on the spot. She didn't even know my name, and I had just been so overcome with joy that I didn't throw up on a girl that I let my emotions and optimism cloud my judgment. That was the reason I became further mortified to talk to any kind of the female species until the beginning of my freshman year. When they lined up to date me.

I'm pretty sure it was because they saw that I was on the football team, and that I was pretty good. Football is everything to South Park. It wasn't because I was good looking or nothing. I didn't grow out of that awkward stage until sometime last year. Hell, I'm probably still in it. I sure as hell don't compare to Kenny. Wendy would tell me otherwise, but what does she know?

Okay, so I might be a little attractive. I'm not being egotistical—it's the truth. At least according to popular demand it is. Lately, when it seems that I don't care about relationships, or want a girlfriend, or even want to date, I am getting more offers than I know what do with. Kenny gets mad because he thinks that everyone likes me and no one likes him. He's retarded. Everyone likes him.

Kyle likes him. Kyle likes him a lot. Sometimes I get insanely jealous, wondering what they are doing in their classes together. Oh yeah, lunch isn't the only thing they have together. Their whole day is spent together, it seems like. And right now they are doing this history project together, where they are setting up fake interviews for people on videotape. It's a work in progress, but Kenny wants me to view it when they are all finished. I don't know if I want to. They get to spend all this time one-on-one; it would just make me sad to see what they can do together.

I know that makes me sound lower than pathetic, but there are times I truly question Kyle's intentions toward Kenny. I mean, I love Kenny; he's a great guy. Is it not too far fetched to believe that Kyle could possibly like Kenny? They do get to spend a lot of time together. Man, that would be one gigantic mess. A love triangle is something I do NOT want to be part of.

"Mr. Marsh, do you plan on continuing to day dream, or do you want to answer the question?" Mr. Jones asks me. He detests all athletes. Especially football players. I can handle him though. He's just a shrimpy little white man who doesn't know an ounce of Spanish, but claims to be down "in the hood." He says he lives in the ghetto, and talks with his hands in symbols a lot. He's just a poser who lives smack dab in the middle of South Park. I'm just waiting for him to say something bad to the wrong type of people and get beaten him up.

"I'll answer the question," I reply through gritted teeth. His face is so close to mine I can smell his sour milk and onion breath. For someone who hates football players, he sure likes to spend a lot of time up close and personal with them. I caught him the other day standing this close to this kid named Craig, when he got in trouble for the thousandth time. And Craig is not the typical punk you want to mess with. He's hardcore. He's in football because the school counselor made him complete his community service hours that way. See? I told you. Football is everything to South Park. Craig is living proof.

I hear Kyle snicker quietly beside me, and this forces a very inappropriate smile to my face. _Not the time, Stan_. Not when Jonesy is staring at you with his beady little coal black eyes.

I watch his eyes narrow to slivers, and I can barely see the pupil. Only two skin folds held up by his plastic-rimmed glasses. God, he's an ugly man.

"We won't have that kind of smarts in here, Mr. Marsh," he almost growls at me. Oh, I'm pissing him off. But Jesus, he is walking into these traps left and right. I am half tempted to answer him with "we don't have ANY kind of smarts in here," but I refrain. That would result with a detention slip to my face and a forceful finger pointing accusingly to my hall, signaling for me to head to the principal's office. That's the last thing I need.

Kyle looks at me with pleading eyes. Eyes that are telling me what I already know. To just back down. I sigh. "I'm sorry, Mr. Jones, it won't happen again." And like that, he walks his greasy little self to the front of the classroom to continue lecturing. I'm pretty sure that if there is such a thing as crab people, then Mr. Jones is certainly the ruler of the mouse people.

"Man, that was close," Kyle whispers to me, flashing his pearly whites. God, why does he have this to me? I don't know how much longer I can take without breaking down.

I have no choice but to smile back.

---

Nothing significant ever happens in my life. It's always the same, old, boring routine. That's the way it goes in Marsh-land here in South Park. So you can imagine my surprise when Kyle came up to me after class and asked me to hang out.

"Hey dude!" he called to me, making sure to catch up to me on my way to my locker.

As I spun around to see who was calling for me, I almost tripped on some nonexistent hole in the hallway. I am SO good at making an ass out of myself. I wait for him to walk up to me. Which he doesn't really walk, rather, he glides on a perfect cushion of air. Its not that how he walks is funny at all—its just so amazingly graceful to me when everyone else seems to just be plain walking. Kyle almost…struts his stuff. And he can pull that off. Oh, he can pull off anything.

The world seemed to stop around me to allow Kyle time to catch up. He walked up to my side, coolly, calmly.

"What are you and Kenny doing tonight?" he asked me, and inside I frowned. Again, there went that Stan-and-Kenny mentality.

Okay, yeah, so about ninety percent of my life right now is spent with Kenny. And the likelihood of us hanging out tonight is probably pretty good, but why is it that every time Kyle DOES ask me to hang out, its always me and Kenny? I'm waiting for the time when those magical words fall upon me: 'What are you doing tonight?' No Kenny. Kenny will understand. He continually claims he does not want to "interrupt" anything.

Like anything would ever actually happen. I am not Kyle's type.

I already know this, and while he told Kenny and I at once what type he was looking for so it wasn't like a letdown or anything, I still feel bummed out. Kyle told Kenny he could never date him one day when they were at lunch. Don't ask me how they got on the subject, but Kenny told me all about it later. He said that Kyle said he likes men of the same stature as Kyle (there goes my chances) and guys that have big penises. That _also_ counts me out.

But Kyle loves dark hair. And I have dark hair. Kenny thinks that Kyle's "type" is merely a stereotypical guide to his perfect physical match. And being as incredibly awesome as he is, he thinks that Kyle would definitely be willing to look over and past that if he truly liked someone's personality. That's what I feel. I mean, Christ, my perfect physical match doesn't even _have_ a penis. Yet, here I am. Yearning after someone who does. I never thought this would ever happen to me.

It was about this time that I realized I hadn't answered his question. "Uh, I'm not sure!" I replied honestly. I mean, I never know what's going on until it happens. Usually it's something with Kenny. Even then all we ever do is hang out at each other's houses. Sometimes we rent movies, other times we play video games. Sometimes we get stoned, other times we get drunk. Sometimes we sit and talk, other times we make out.

Haha, just kidding about that last part. Just keeping you on your toes.

"I think a couple of people are coming over. You guys can come if you want to," he said, extending the invitation to us. The package deal.

I bet the couple of people he's talking about will be Emery, Jacob, and Bebe. Emery and Jacob are two kids whose parents moved here during our town's "discovery." I like them fine, but they seem to always be around Kyle. He's never without them. I guess cause they all live in one row.

The other person that will be there will be Bebe. She's kind of the universal awesome girl of Kyle's group. Always around those three, always providing comic relief. She's cool, and I'd like to hang out with her more. Bebe does her own thing as far as I'm concerned. She and Wendy used to be as inseperable as Kyle and me, but that too, faded away. They aren't really even acquaintances anymore.

"Yeah, dude, I'll definitely be there." I always tell Kyle I'll be there, even when I have previously thought of plans. I work him in somehow. I feel horrible doing this, but I can't say no to his adorable face! I promised myself I would never ditch my friends for a girl, because its happened oh-too-often already, but Kyle is different. Cause he is one us, and it's never just us two. So I usually end up inviting Kenny anyway. And when Kyle asks Kenny to hang out, it's vice versa.

"Word," Kyle then replied to me. I always laugh to myself when he says it. It is his catch phrase. He says it all the time. And no one has said that as an expression in, like, ten years. But again, he can pull it off. Why? Cause he's Kyle Broflovski.

I smiled at him, and this was one of those times that I swear that smile on his face lasted long enough for him to look into my eyes, check out my face, nod a few times in approval, and acknowledge the environment around us after realizing how long we had been staring at each other. I hope I'm not creeping him out by just looking at him. I wonder sometimes. He's a pretty smart guy. Will he figure this whole thing out without me telling him?

"I'll just call you when I get home," I said, making my way to my locker, avoiding any awkward silence.

"Alright, man. See you then!" he said to me, and at that, he went on with his day. I watched him walk away, the hoards of people blocking the hallway seeming to part it so that he could walk down.

I felt my heart beating out of my chest. I get to hang out with him tonight! I know it's not uncommon. It seems to be happening more and more, don't make fun of me!

At least he thinks of me when he wants his friends to come over. At least he thinks of me as his friend. I've got that much to work off of.

My optimism tells me there is still hope yet. There was a slight skip in my step as I hurried to my next class of the day.

Now, its currently 4:15, and I have already called him. We get out of school at 3:00. It was hard enough for me to wait 'casually' for an hour. I am going over to his house around 7ish tonight. After his family eats dinner.

Maybe I'll be the first one there. Maybe I'll be able to confess my feelings to him. Maybe he'll embrace me in a thousand kisses, returning his feelings graciously.

I click on the T.V. and flip through the channels, anticipating every minute change on the damn clock sitting next to me. Seven o'clock cannot come fast enough.


	3. Comfortably Numb

It's been awhile. I've been doing a lot of homework, but no worries. I haven't even _begun_ to forget about this story. And with holiday season coming up soon, I hope to have some free time. Anyway, I'd like to, once again, thank my faithful readers and reviewers. Any suggestions to make this better, please let me know. I might be bordering the edge of boring, since I'm trying to narrate a person's everyday thoughts. If that is the case, I'M SORRY! Oh, and also, for the fun of it, I've decided to title each chapter after a song that I like. If you guess who each one is by, you get a gold star for the day!

Chapter 3-** Comfortably Numb**

Kyle's basement is so chill, I feel at home immediately when stepping in. His mom, Sheila, used to be an overprotective bitch to him, but somewhere along the line, she and Kyle reached an agreement. The basement is _his_ domain. I don't think she even checks on him down there or anything! Its like we've got our own place to live for a while.

It's a good thing too. If his mom knew what all went on in that basement, I think she'd have a heart attack. Not only the countless _guys_ her son has made out with on the couch, but also the millions of times he's smoked or drank something other than lemonade. His mom is still pretty over protective, and she definitely lets her opinion be known when it comes to the subject of teen drinking and drugs. And Kyle, being her eldest, shouldn't do any of that 'nonsense'. It's just too bad he does, and has, for well over three years now.

Kyle also smokes cigarettes. I hate cigarettes. Matter of fact, I despise everything about them. Their smell, their taste, their smoke, their price, their concept, their addiction, their side-effects. Everything. How can I be this attracted to him when he embodies one of my most loathed characteristics? HOW?

He knows I hate them. He always tries to blow the smoke away from me when we're somewhere inside. Other than that, he goes outside to do it.

He says he's been smoking them since he was fourteen. Fourteen! I can't remember what I was doing at fourteen, but it sure as hell wasn't scraping up money to buy some cancer stick. Ugh, no thank you!

But the funny thing about all of this is the simple fact that this is not even a turn off for me. It's just another part of Kyle to me. And it's beautiful. Man, I am one fucked up kid.

"Hey guys," I hear Kyle say from the couch that's back is facing to me as I walk down the stairs. I know it's his voice. Sure enough, seconds later his head pops out over the top, his eyes taking a peek to which guys he said hello. I peer around the room, discovering that Emery and Jacob are already over, sitting on the couch facing Kyle's. Bebe is in the chair adjacent to the two couches. They all look incredibly comfortable, and I decide to join them in that state.

I glance over at Kenny, who is in contemplation of where exactly to sit. There is one seat next to Kyle, and one seat next to Jacob. He gives me a sly smile, seating himself next to Jacob. Ha, thanks Kenny.

Truth be told, I don't _want_ to sit next to Kyle. I get all of these butterflies in my stomach, and my skin gets hot. Plus sitting next to him means I can't look at him as much. It would look a little too obvious to cock my head at a ninety-degree angle at all times. So sitting next to him is actually the worst seat I could have taken. And now I'm here. Oh well.

"Hey you guys want anything to drink?" inquires the small guy, who is so close to me I can smell his natural scent. He's not one of those guys who feel they need to wear cologne to impress people. He's almost like an air freshener, all on his own. Without the flowery, overloading grandma smell.

Kenny looks at me, and I at him. In our heads, I know we are contemplating the same thing. See, we always discuss things before we go places. Are we going to drink, if so, who's going to drive, how much are we going to drink, are we going to smoke, all of the questions you can think of. We even come up with a tentative answer to all of it too. But it's this moment in time that we rule out all other previous judgment and simply nod a "sure" at our friend. We should stop wasting our breath beforehand, because in the end, we are always going to say yes to a good drink. Maybe that makes us losers. Maybe it makes us human. Whatever the case, Kyle is staring at me, waiting for my answer. Apparently he missed the simultaneous head nodding brought forth from the package deal.

"Yeah, that'd be great, Kyle," I say, making sure I spend extra time on this phrase so that he has to look at me longer. The longer he looks at me, the longer I can get him to recognize how adorable I am, right? Haha.

"All I've got is beer tonight, guys. Sorry," Kyle says, unblinking. It's usually all he ever has. But we're tough men. We can handle a brewsky. I feel like I should pound my chest and shout like Tarzan.

"Beer's fine with me," Kenny responds. He's always up for a beer. Even more than me sometimes.

"Me too," I chime in. If I'm the last one to say something, Kyle will have to look at me last. That way, when he is getting the beer, I'll be the last image on his mind. God, I'm obsessed…

Please help me!

"Hey guys! So glad you could make it!" Emery says to us cheerily, just now recognizing that we have joined them. They're probably already high. Kenny insisted we be fashionably late, so it is 7:30. Another thirty minutes wasted when I could have been spending it with Kyle.

Jacob just smiles. Both Emery and Jacob are super friendly guys, but it is Emery who really stands out in my mind. He's always so off-the-wall with every one of his comments, but he's a funny guy. His voice is awesome. I'm jealous as hell and want a voice like his. It is commanding, raspy, and sexy all at once. He's really skinny and tall, and he wears thick-rimmed glasses. But he is cute. I wonder often if Kyle thinks he is cute.

Jacob, on the other hand, is what I would call observant. Not quite shy, he sits and soaks things in before he decides to contribute to the conversation. But when he does, he is incredible. Always witty. Again, making me jealous. I'm jealous too much. Life would be so much easier if I didn't have these damn feelings!

"So nice of you to acknowledge them, Em," Bebe says. She noticed we were here the minute we walked in the door. She's cool like that. Sometimes I get the feeling that Bebe could have a slight crush on either me or Kenny, because whenever we are there, she is always the first to pick on us. But that's just her character too. She's a picker.

If you want to talk jealousy, I'm jealous of her the most. Okay, yeah, Kyle is gay. But the amount of time he spends with Bebe, the relationship the two have, and the fact that when Kyle is drunk he is all over Bebe makes me seething with envy. And I know its nothing like he swings both ways, because I look at Bebe, and know there is nothing that would ever happen. She has a great personality. That should say it all, right? Isn't that what you say to someone who you set up for a blind date with someone who isn't very attractive? Well, that's Bebe. Don't get me wrong, she's not hideous or anything. I just don't think even straight guys think she is that great. It's going to take someone special to end up with her.

She is so great, though. I mean, in any awkward situation I have when Kyle and Emery and Jacob are lost in an inside joke conversation, I turn to Bebe for comic relief. All she has to do is sit there with her faces and I laugh harder than I remember laughing before.

Bebe Stevens has THE funniest hair you will ever come in contact with. When she was little, I thought she resembled Little Richard from a profile view, but now that she is older, she has cut it so that it is short and fuzzy. She can mold it to whichever hairstyle she wants with her hands. I ask her to sandwich her hair together between her hands to create a Mohawk. She does, and both Kenny and I let out a chuckle. Man this chick is high-class comedy…

Kyle laughs too. He styled his hair today the way I asked Bebe to make hers. It depends on the day, but Kyle's hair can vary. It used to be an Afro of rich red curls, but now it's darkened some and started to straighten out. He has the most Jewish hair of anyone I have ever known. I know that's stereotypical, but Jesus! Look at his hair and tell me he's not Jewish. It's the kind that really won't style no matter what you do to it. That's why it's so funny when he _does_ try to style it, because it doesn't look any different. But today, today, it looks different. Kyle tried to make it a Mohawk. And it looks awesome.

I turn my attention to the freckled red head. He's so adorable! And I can't wait until he gets high. When he is sober, he is the most amazing guy in South Park. I wouldn't trade my time I spend with him for anyone. BUT…when he is high, he is indescribable! When I am high, I get all soft-spoken and stupid. When Kyle is stoned, he says so many funny things it makes my stomach keel over in pain from laughing so hard. Its not just _what_ he says, it's _how_ he says it too. His voice is so damn cute I want to pounce on him on this couch as we speak.

Drunken Kyle is also super intense for me. He's not a big drinker, so when he gets drunk, he gets horny. He spent well over fifteen minutes with his arm around my shoulders once at a friend's house's couch when he had been drinking all night. I took it as in invitation to slide my arm around his waist. I was in heaven, and it didn't even faze him. He never knew.

"Is Miller Lt. cool with you guys?" Kyle asks, retrieving two beers from the refrigerator in the corner. His mom keeps that fridge down here for all of the sodas and anything that won't fit up in the kitchen one. But Kyle sneaks beer in it every so often from a hidden case he has in the shadows of the basement. We don't go through the case that fast. Just the notion of drinking cold drinks in a comfortable environment with friends is enough for us all.

"Totally," Kenny says, and grins a wide grin. Kenny is another one of those people that can pull off otherwise-lame comments and catch phrases with no effort whatsoever. He even says it in the Valley girl way.

I nod, and receive a flying can of beer in less than one seconds time. Kyle wasn't really asking us, he just wanted us to know that it was what we were getting.

"So what are you guys up to?" I ask, knowing full well what the response will be. The atmosphere is still smoky from their last few hits.

"Aw, nothin'," is Kyle's reply, and I melt at his mischievous smile. _Damn, he is cute_.

"What are YOU up to, Stanley?" Bebe coos, in an overly curious tone. Stanley is reserved for only my mother to call me, but I let it slide. After all, it _is_ Bebe. She's only joking.

"Ken and I thought we'd stop over, see what Kyle's got going on." I say this, and at once realize it is, quite possibly, the most retarded thing I could have said at that given moment. Not only am I not cool, but I have also blown Captain Obvious out of the water and mocked him on the "No Shit!" throne. I need to be more clever if Kyle is ever going to notice me for more than his measly friend.

"And now that we are here, lets get the part-tay started!" Kenny says, saving me from any wait time for people to make fun of me. Kenny is quick-witted like that. Makes me jealous.

"Word," Kyle says while laughing. If only I could make Kyle laugh. I love to see him laugh.

Anybody listening in to our conversation right now must be wondering why I love this kid so much. I mean, we are both indecisive potheads, apparently. But there is something more. It's the non-verbal vibes that Kyle sends off that sends chills down my back. I don't know. I'm just all out attracted to him. For real, there is no denying it. I have got to tell him someday. Someday soon. Otherwise it will eat at me and eat away at my soul until there is no Stan left but a hollow human shell.

Maybe I'm being a bit overdramatic, but you realize the severity of the situation.

A few hours pass, and we are still sitting in the same position. We are still sipping the same beers, and we are still laughing into the same smoke-filled air. I know a great deal of people disapprove of marijuana, but those people may not know that it's really not _that_ bad. I think the effects of alcohol are worse. Weed just makes you laugh a lot. And in my case, act unfathomably stupid.

Kyle is going on and on about why guys with big penises are hot. It's funny to me, how comfortable he is with talking about the types of guys he wants. I guess it's not funny as much as it is a constant reminder of how he likes men. He never used to do that. Maybe he's trying to tell me something.

"And I say to anyone who comes up to me I don't really care who you are I like 'em big!" he claims, and squeals with his own cute laugher. Kenny and I just keep looking to each other for some kind of relief. We can't laugh anymore or we are going to cramp up and explode.

"What if he's not that big but he's still a cool guy?" Bebe eggs on. She and Kyle are the only focus of conversation now. Emery and Jacob are watching in semi-laughter as well.

"Then I kick 'em to the curb! Go big or go home I say! There's nothing better!" Kyle has a unique way of ending all of his sentences with a big fat exclamation point. He raises his voice at the end just enough to keep me in stitches. This bout makes me fall for him so much harder.

"Now Kyle that's not really fair," Bebe states, trying hard, herself, to contain the laughter inside.

"I don't caaaare!" he says, holding onto the word care with extra high-pitched volume. Kyle is cracking himself up now. "I want what I don't have, why can't every body just leave me aloooone!" Same effect with the word alone. He's so beautiful to me. And I can't stop laughing long enough to stare at him. My eyes are water filled, and the world around me is liquefied. I can no longer see Kenny. He's disappeared into the water. God help me, this isn't attractive. Tears streaming down my face from _laughter_? My ex told me I looked pitiful when I was laughing so hard that I was crying. She said it was a combination of someone sucking on a lemon face with someone getting kicked in the nuts face. Great. And this what I look like right now.

All of the sudden, my body steps up into overdrive. I can no longer feel what's going on. I have become numb, unable to control any fits of laughter I feel forming. Kyle looks over at me and continues to laugh, covering his mouth with a half-closed fist. His eyes are squinted into narrow little sunshines, and his giggles are short bursts of extreme power. I can't contain myself. I want to wrap my arms around him and pull him close to me.

He yelps in surprise as I reach around him, bringing his body but a few inches away from mine. I feel his body heat and shaking stomach from laughing, and I decide to calm him and myself down. Without warning, I pull his lips to mine, capturing his bottom lip above my own. What feels somewhat awkward at first increasingly grows comfortable for me, and I fall in synch with the motions of his still shaking body. I bring my hand up to his cheek, and lovingly stroke it as a signal for him to calm down. He mirrors my action, and intensifies my kiss. We pull apart at the same time, breathless.

Only then do I realize I'm still sitting on the edge of my seat, gazing at the green-eyed boy, unable to make the move. He's still looking at me, but the tears in my eyes have stopped forming. I am no longer laughing.

---

"Kyle, I think we're gonna head out," Kenny says to the very oblivious Kyle. "Thanks for having us over!"

"Yes, thank you," I say, trying my best to be polite, and to get Kyle to look in my direction once more. Since that embarrassing moment where my imagination got the best of me, Kyle seemed to zone me out.

I don't think the two instances were directly connected, but that's what happens. Kyle grows bored with me. If there is someone at the scene better than me, he turns his attention to them. And everyone there is better than me. Emery, Jacob, Kenny, especially Bebe. I don't stand a chance.

I walk away, dejected. Kenny doesn't say anything to me until we are safely confined inside the walls of his beat up '87 Cavalier.

"You seem sad tonight," he says, observantly. There's the understatement of the year.

"Nah, I'm not too bad," I lie, hoping to end this conversation. I'm pretty sure Ken gets tired of me talking about Kyle all the time.

"Dude, Kyle is fucking hilarious!" Kenny adds, pouring more salt into the wound. Damn him, he did it purposefully.

"I KNOW," I reply, blatant, cold.

"Seriously, Stan, you need to do something about this! Its so obvious how you feel, why don't you just tell him? Get it over with!" Oh, Kenny. Getting it over with, so to speak, is hell of a lot harder than what you make it sound like. Of course he knows this. Kenny is just about the worst person to actually confess his feelings. He avoids confrontation, potential rejection, and all other possibilities. That is why he is single, and that is why he doesn't like to take chances. I'm with him on this most of the time, but I think he gets a little too worried about everything. I get sick of him constantly putting himself down, truly believing there isn't someone out there that wants to be with him.

So I decide to point out his weakness. "Whatever, Kenny, you would NEVER do it." Ouch, that was probably an unnecessary punch below the belt.

Kenny just shrugs it off, much to my relief. "'Probly not. But I'm not you. And I don't feel the way you do. Come on, Stan. You have balls, I know you do. Remember when you asked out that waitress on a dare? You've got it in you. And you're never going to know what he feels unless you let him know."

"I guess," I agree, halfheartedly. I don't want to be rejected anymore than he does. It's not a fun feeling.

"Alright, look. You do what you want. But I don't like seeing you like this. I wish I could understand, but I don't. So I'll just sit back and watch. Anytime you feel like talking about it, let me know," he reassures me, and warms my heart. It is soooo good to have a friend like Kenny. He's always got my back. I love the guy so much.

"Thanks, Ken," I say, relaxing into the cold passenger seat a little more.

Kenny looks over at me and smiles. It's one of those heartwarming gestures that people don't do enough to each other to express their caring. Kenny and I have that unspoken bond. It's too bad that I can't transfer all of these feelings I have about Kyle onto him. And make him be gay. Then, THEN we'd be talking!

"Don't be looking at me like that," he tells me, like he can read my thoughts. We playfully suggest just getting gay with each other, but to him, it may more or less be a way of joking about the intense situation we have. I do it because the more and more I talk about being with a guy, especially Kenny, the easier it is for me to actually picture myself with Kyle. It's twisted.

"Sorry dude," I say half-serious. I don't know, I just don't have those thoughts for Kenny. It's weird, even Kyle himself tells us we should just make out and get it over with. That, of course, makes me very sad. I hope he doesn't think we like each other. Just because we spend every second of the day attached at the hip doesn't mean we're in love with each other. We just get each other, love each other's company, and have the world in common.

Kenny attempts to pull his car out of a parallel parking job. He's awful at parallel parking, and even worse at getting out of it. I mildly chuckle as we hit the curb at least four times before we are off, driving down the road.

"What do you want to do tomorrow?" I ask him. I always secure that we are going to do something, even if we never know what we are going to do.

"I dunno," he replies like clockwork. We are both still kind of messed up.

"I was thinking we could go see that movie, um, _Waiting_? Since you're a waiter and all," I suggest. "I hear its pretty funny."

Kenny nods in approval. "Sounds pretty good. I don't know, man, I've got a lot of homework." He pauses to look over deviously at me. "You could ask _Kyyyle_ to the movies. Maybe he will hold your hand. If you're lucky."

I throw a paper wad I found on the ground at him. "Shut up, jerk," is my simple reply. I'm not very good with comebacks, so lay off. My defense is wadded up weapons. I find another crumpled paper and throw it at him before he even gets a chance to retrieve the first one.

Kenny grins, and I see his shoulders go up and down twice from laughter. His eyes remain on the road, as he veers to the right where my house is. In one swift motion, I watch the small little car turn into my driveway. This is usually where he and I spent a lot of time, just talking. Summing up the day's events in general. Even though we have had a whole day to talk about them. Sure enough, Kenny puts the car into park gear, and looks over at me.

"I don't know what to do, Ken," I break down. At last.

"Hm?" he asks, lost in his own thoughts.

"About Kyle. I can't get him off my mind, this is ridiculous."

"Have you thought about actually telling him? Not just in your little daydreams and pretend scenarios in the shower?" Kenny knows only what I tell him, and I tell him everything.

I shift my weight uncomfortably. "Yeah, but I'm so nervous. I don't know if I can do it."

"Well, its up to you, buddy. Just know, that whatever you decide to do, I will be behind you. Whatever the outcome. If he tells you he is flattered but doesn't think of you that way, then I'll help you out in any way possible. If he tells you he likes you back, and you two, like, date or whatever, then I'll be behind you for that too, man." Although his declaration is filled with sincerity, I notice a small smile creep upon his lips at the mention of Kyle and me dating. The thought forces a small smile to my lips as well. But it fades when I think of the actual possibility of that happening.

"I always have these daydreams that Kyle ends up finding out somehow, and he shows up at my doorstep randomly," I begin.

Kenny giggles. "He runs through the rain-filled streets, drenched from the weather and his own perspiration, and comes knocking on your door with wilted flowers and a deadly grin?" Kenny paints the overdramatic scene so vividly and sarcastically.

"Cue cheesy eighties music here," he adds, and I playfully punch him in the arm.

"NO THAT'S NOT WHAT HAPPENS!" I cry, exasperated. It's no use. Kenny's had enough of me talking about Kyle for one night. All he'll want to do from now on is joke, and we can spend tomorrow doing that. I instead switch topics of conversation to the history test I took today and how I think I failed it. Kenny starts in on one of his classes, and we get into a heated conversation for another thirty minutes. When we are finished, the windows are steamed up in the back, and the air inside the car looks foggy. No wonder people think we're a couple.

"Alright, dude, it's getting late," I mention. "I should probably be heading inside."

"Yeah, I need to get home and clean my room," Kenny replies. He's always cleaning his room. But his room is always messy. I guess it's not hard to get such a small space dirty in one day.

"I'll talk to you later," I say, stepping out of the car. For real this time.

"Later," Kenny says, speeding off as soon as I shut the passenger door. I hang my head and trudge up to my front door, unlocking it with my key. It's well past midnight, my parents are probably either asleep or doing it. And I don't want to find out which one. I turn the knob, and the thick wooden door opens with a creepy screeching noise. I hear the soft muffle of the television to my left, and I know now that dad has probably fallen asleep in his chair once again. He's been doing that a lot lately. I hear him snoring ferociously as soon as my mind registers what it is going on. I'm surprised I didn't hear him from outside.

I hear that every man eventually snores, as he grows older. I also hear that it intensifies with age, until you can overpower the sound of two chainsaws running, trying to cut through a field of inflated balloons. I pray that I NEVER sound like that. How unattractive can you get?

"Stan?" I hear him grumble. My nonexistent noises must not have been too quiet.

"Yeah dad, it's me."

"What time is it?" he asks in a half-groggy state.

"Late," I reply. He doesn't need to know. I don't think he'll remember even if I do tell him. "Just go back to sleep, sorry that I woke you up."

"You didn't wake me up," he tries to convince me, while grunting and attempting to pull himself out of his chair. Probably to go into the kitchen to get a drink of milk or to go to the bathroom to pee. He never sleeps with mom anymore. I don't know if this is something to be concerned about, or if she just can't take the snoring as much as I can't.

"Well, sorry anyway," I say. I don't know why, maybe I feel like I'm covering my ground by apologizing a thousand times for stuff I have no reason to be sorry over? It's a curse.

When I was little, my mom used to get mad at me because I wouldn't apologize for anything. When I got a bit older, I started apologizing for EVERYTHING. Now she gets mad at me for _that_. I can't win. She says that by me apologizing all the time, I lose track on the things I really should apologize for. And if I apologize for every little thing, then my apology loses sincerity. I've noticed that after saying the word apologizing a lot, it starts to sound weird.

Apologizing.

Ha, anyway. As I walk up to my room, I notice my mother soundly asleep as her little reading lamp stays lit. She falls asleep with it on and a book in her hands all the time. This is my parent's routine. I wonder when they ever DO get to be with each other. You know, intimately.

WHAT! I think its cool my parents still do that shit! Hell, when I'm their age, I BETTER still be doing it! I better still be at it when I'm old and wrinkly like my grandpa! The longer life can be with sex, the better. Kenny and I both agree about this. He is hopeful for a good 'romp in the sack every night. But Kenny is no whore. He won't do it with just anyone. At least, not anymore. We won't talk about his past though.

We won't talk about mine either. Nobody wants to hear about 'ole Stanley's tainted history.

I don't want anyone to look at me differently. I've changed. I've overcome. I'm not as stupid. I want people to accept me for who I am now. I once had a girlfriend who couldn't "deal" with my past. And this was before I'd even slept with anyone! It was the making out that bothered her.

So yeah, I like to kiss. What's the big fucking deal? Making out is hella fun, and that witch tried to make me feel guilty for having a good time. She was just jealous. Ironic that she is pregnant with her first child now, isn't it?

Girls make me sick sometimes. They are so confusing and malicious; it makes me want to scream. I don't know why it is the natural order of society for boys and girls to get together. I think people should get to be with whomever they want to be with, regardless of race or sex. Guess I'm pretty tolerant for an eighteen year old. It could have something to do with my feelings for Kyle.

I flip the light switch on in the bathroom, walk up to the mirror, and stare at the hopeful, optimistic reflection staring right back at me.

"Kenny's right," it tells me. "You're not going to ever get anywhere with just me knowing." It mocks me, and I frown.

"Tell Kyle."

I open up the medicine cabinet, ignoring the pleading reflection. I grab my face wash and toothbrush, preparing myself for bed. Sleep is the _only_ place of peace I get away from thinking about this situation that is tormenting my soul. I never have dreams about the people I like. If I do, they are either faceless with a name, or nameless with a distinct face. It is never both their name and face, so that I know exactly who it is. I haven't dreamt about Kyle at all like that yet. This excites me, because maybe this whole thing _is_ just a phase, and I only further obsess about it because I force myself to think about it.

I mean, do I really like him as much as I say I do? Or is it just the thought of liking him that makes me believe I like him more? If I haven't dreamed about him yet, then I don't have any worries. This causes me to relax a bit as I crawl into my bed, ready for yet another dreamless night's sleep


	4. It's All In Your Mind

New chapter, new song. That really has nothing to with the chapter but oh well. Um…this chapter really didn't turn out the way I wanted it to. It is somewhat of a transition into the next one. I think. Well, I have two weeks left of school, so this may be it for a while. Then again, I might go insane doing too much work and relieve myself. No one knows. I'm ever mysterious, like the wind!

Chapter 4- **Its All In Your Mind**

I had my first dream about Kyle last night. Yep. It was him. His voice, his eyes, his mouth, his hair, his body, his name, his EVERYTHING. It was Kyle. I _dreamed_ about him! And I remember it like it really happened.

It was much like the scenario last night. We were at his house, at the party. Several people were there, but all I could see was Kyle. He looked like he did last night. Wearing the same green T-shirt and jeans. Such a simple outfit, but he wears it so well. He topped it off with a brown corduroy jacket. He looked at me, and it sent chills down my back. We were sitting together on the couch, and he leaned into me, breathing heavily.

"I know how you feel," he whispered in my ear, even though he was talking directly in front of my face. He pulled back so I could see his grin and seductive eyes. He stood up, motioning me to do the same. We walked up the stairs, which were no longer the stairs to his basement, but a spiral staircase to some unknown top floor. We passed people in a large hallway, and he ignored them. He just kept looking into my eyes, propelling me forwards as I walked backwards up the stairs, just inches away from him. He lunged at me at times, just close enough to my face so I could feel the body heat from his lips. He kept the very same grin I saw him have before.

"I thought you would never like me," I said, amazed at this forward gesture.

He tilted his head back slightly and laughed; only to return to that sexy gaze he had since we started climbing. "You thought wrong."

He pushed me into a bedroom, which we thought was vacant until we saw two people chatting it up near the twin bed. We muttered apologies, moving our way to the next room. His eyes remained glued to me, his mouth half open and tongue licking his lips as though he could take a bite out of my flesh at any time without warning. My favorite song was playing out as the beat of my heart, though I couldn't tell you what that "favorite" song was. I felt his hand reach beside me to open another door. This room looked dark and inviting.

He pushed me against the wall, reaching up to my face on his tiptoes. He was teasing me, flirting with the idea of kissing me. I closed my eyes, and I could feel his lips. They were there, they were touching mine.

I opened my eyes, noticing that another couple was in the same room. It was a big room, and they were on the couch, making out to a movie. This didn't bother Kyle, because he guided me to the bed, which was a mattress on the floor. He used all of his strength to push my shoulders. I fell effortlessly. He climbed on top of me, eyes burning a hole through the mattress behind me. Finally, he closed the gap between us, pressing his lips firmly down on my own eager, anticipating ones. He brought his hands to my face. We rolled onto the side, and he pulled away just enough to trace the outline of my lips with his tongue. My hands fell to his side, wrapping around his tiny waist. My heart beat faster with each move we made.

He smashed his face against mine once more, this time his kisses passionate and aggressive. He opened his mouth slightly, searching for my tongue. He found it.

Our tongues were battling against each other, and I felt his hands slide down from my face. I shivered as they made their way slowly down my neck…to my chest…to my abdomen. A jolt of electricity shot through my body when he slipped a curious hand under my shirt's end. He pushed at my side, feeling that bone that guys have at their hips. He then pulled it closer, lowering his hand to my ass.

Hesitantly, I pushed up his shirt, exploring the unknown territory of Kyle's bare skin. It was so soft, so smooth, so warm. I felt a little layer of fuzz that was invisible to the naked eye, but made him all the more lovable and touchable. My hands were so big and his waist was so tiny I could almost wrap my hand around half of it. I scooted him closer, and I felt his excitement growing. I rubbed that very same hipbone he was playing with earlier. I could feel his above his skin, and it turned me on even more. I love that bone. It is one of the single hottest things on a guy's body. And on Kyle? Mmmm…

And then, without warning, I woke up. Yep. I woke up, alone in my bed and horny as all hell. It WAS hell. It wasn't real. It was all in my mind. My dreams suck ass. The ones I want to be real never are. They are always so full of description and detail. They always play out as though I lived through that experience. You know the kind I am talking about. Then you wake up, sad, pissed, and alone.

Okay, so now I've experienced this. A dream about Kyle. What the hell does this mean? Kenny says that I take dreams too seriously. That I could have been dreaming about anybody. Well, I don't think so. You don't dream about just anybody like that. God, I want him so bad….

I'm standing over the toilet, staring at the insides where I just peed for the first time this morning. Thinking about Kyle. No connection between those two things, by the way. I just space out a lot.

What am I going to do? I can't ignore this feeling! And it's not going to go away. I mean, Kyle is constantly on my mind during my waking hours, now he's invading my dreams? When will this stop!

"Stan! Honey! Phone's for you!" I hear my mom yell from downstairs, loud enough that I could hear her from behind closed doors with a radio turned up moderately loud. She has this commanding voice that can rattle you in your sleep if she needs it to. Well, you know this. She is my alarm clock every morning. Except today. Today is Saturday. My day of play.

I flush the toilet, watching the swirls of yellowish water disappear, replaced by new, fresh water. I figure the phone call is Kenny, wanting me to do something random. Or eat lunch. Or maybe go to that movie that we were talking about. I wash my hands with warm, soapy water, and dry them. I check out the dark circles under my eye in the mirror, and then I casually mosey to my parent's bedroom, picking up the phone in there.

"I got it up here!" I yell down to my mom, who in return says, "okay" very clearly ON the phone. I hear a clicking noise.

"What's up, dude?"

"Hey, Stan," I hear a soft, cute voice on the other end. Wait a minute, this isn't Kenny!

"Kyle!" I squeal, a little too girly. See what he does to me?

"Hey, what's up?" he asks, and I melt. Kyle called me. HE called ME!

"Nothin' much. Just got out of bed." I peer down at my watch. Its fucking 3:00 in the afternoon. Note to self: seem less lazy in the presence of greatness.

"Dang, you sleep late." I hit myself on the forehead.

"Yeah, well, I didn't get to bed until real late last night," I quickly recover. It's partly true.

"Word." He pauses. I smile. "So what are you up to today?"

I scan over my day quickly inside my head. Wake up…eat lunch…sit around, sit around, sit around…

"Not much planned. What'd you have in mind?" Could this be it? Could he be asking me to do something _alone_?

"Well a few of us are going to North Park for a party. One of Emery's friends. It's supposed to be big. You wanna come?"

I almost jumped at the chance. But instead, thought about this situation. A party. With Kyle. With a bunch of people that I don't know. A bunch of people that know Kyle. That know Emery. That know everyone. And they'll all get into talking about things I don't know about, ignore me, and I'll wish I'd never gone. I may like Kyle, but I can't be comfortable somewhere like that. I need to see if Kenny is going.

"Um, I might meet up with you. I have to see what Kenny is doing. We were going to go see a movie today." No wonder Kyle thinks we should be a couple. No wonder people think we are a package deal! You're a fucking retard, Stan Marsh. Why did you say that? WHY!

"Oh," Kyle says, a little falter in his voice. Dammit. Son of a bitch dammit! "That's cool. You guys should come afterwards. It sounds like it's going to be awesome."

"Yeah, definitely!" I say, over enthusiastically. "Hey, if we don't get to it, we should definitely hang out soon." This is what I do. I secure another hang out date so that Kyle doesn't think I don't like him anymore.

"Heck yeah!" he replies. He is so cute when he is enthusiastic. Not at all dorky like me. God, I'm a nerd.

"So yeah, where does this kid live?" And Kyle gives me semi-directions, telling me to call him when we get there. I am making it a point to go there. I don't care if there is an avalanche or a volcano or a life-threatening meteor, I am making it to this party. Kyle has personally invited me. I hang up, immediately calling Kenny.

"Ken! Get your coat on. I'll be over there in five minutes, we are going to the movies and then we are going to a party that Kyle invited us to in North Park!" I cry breathlessly into the phone.

"Wait, what?" Kenny just woke up too, I can tell. This is why we are such great friends.

"I'm coming over, get your ass out of bed!" I repeat.

"Alright, dude, whatever. See you in a few."

I hang up, barely able to contain my excitement. I do a little dance on my way to my room, sifting through the piles of clothes that are piled on the floor, searching for just the right shirt. My body is going to go to shit once I stop playing football. For now, I've got to flaunt it. Even though I'll never be Kyle's perfect physical match, I can still look good for him.

And look good is what I do. In two minutes time. See, I'm not like Kenny. I don't take ten THOUSAND years to pick out a simple shirt and pants to fit my mood. Sure, I'm moody and have those days, but Kenny is quite possibly the girliest guy I know. In that respect, at least.

Kenny is not going to be ready when I get over there. I bet he won't even be out of bed yet. He might have fallen asleep again. I don't know why I rush around, only to go and sit at his house, and wait for him to get ready. When I tell him I'm getting ready and I'll be over, to me, it means "be ready when I get there!" To him, it means "I'll be over there to keep you company while you get ready." Grrr…

Kenny always looks good though. That's his forte. He's a hottie. I can say this comfortably because, well, he is. I tell him it sometimes. Only when it's just him and me. I've got nothing to be ashamed of. You want to blackmail me? Try and find something I HAVEN'T told him! You'll lose!

I don't try to look good. Not usually, that is. On a rare day, you'll see me in some nice khakis and a polo or something. That's me dressing up. Usually I'm in jeans and T-shirt. A lot like Kyle. But Kyle's got a style that I can't—and don't want to—copy. He's on his own level. Another reason I'm infatuated with him.

---

"Dude! GET OUT OF BED!" I yell as I barge through Kenny's bedroom door. I gave him a whole ten minutes this time. There should be no excuse. Much to my surprise, he IS out of bed. He's not even in the room. I spin around to see him facing me, standing in pajama pants and a plain black T-shirt. He pauses brushing his teeth to smile a big, toothpasty smile at me.

"You were saying?" he replies, words muffled by the red toothbrush occupying his mouth. He is obviously proud of himself for being up and getting ready. He knows how much I hate waiting on him. I nod my head in approval and apology, and watch him waddle back into the bathroom. I hear the sounds of spitting and water running, and then he reappears.

"What are we doing today?" he asks, obvious to me now that he _was_ still asleep when I called earlier. "You look nice." He notices, and flips the collar of my green polo up. I let out a smirk. "Thanks," I mutter.

Kenny walks over to his closet, pulling his shirt off in the process. He examines the content of his closet, separating each and every hanger to see what each shirt looks like. He's had these clothes for a while now. Why does it take him so long to figure out what shirt it is? Like I said, Kenny's a girl. Total girl.

He pulls out a shirt, stopping in mid motion to look over at me. "Dude! We are going to see Kyle today, aren't we!"

I sigh, closing my eyes tightly. "Yes," I say, squinting through my right eye afterwards to see Kenny's reaction.

He chuckles, shoulders moving with his stomach. "I KNEW there was a reason you looked like that! I never see you dress up, Stan. Never."

Okay, lets point out something more obvious, jerk.

"Yes, yes, you've made your point. HURRY UP!" I yell, hoping to change the subject. Kenny likes to pick on me about my crush. Hell, I'd do it too if I were him.

Another ten minutes later, Kenny matches a blue zip up sweatshirt with some tan khakis and an undershirt. The color in his shirt really brings out the color in his eyes. He has eyes like the purest of seas. Crystal clear blue.

He spends another ten minutes on his hair, eventually settling on a messed up I-don't-care-but-spent-time-looking-that-way style. I sigh, looking at my watch. We are going to miss the 4:15 showing of the movie if he doesn't hurry up. Finally, he turns to me, signaling that he is finished. I've long been sitting on his bed, relishing in the comfort. If I could, I would steal Kenny's bed away and have it for my own. That's why when we have sleepovers; I refuse to give up a side of that bed. People can think we're gay, they can think we're together, they can think we're fucking each other, I don't care. I am sleeping in that bed.

Which is why waiting for Kenny isn't all that bad.

"You ready?" he asks me. As if _I'm _the one _he's_ been waiting for.

I blink, shake my head twice, and raise my eyebrows. Duh, Kenny. "Yeah!"

"Alright, let's go!"

My thoughts exactly.

We run into Jimmy at the movies. Good thing too, I haven't seen him in forever. I guess he's going to see the same thing as we were going to, so we just sit together. Kenny and Jimmy get along pretty well too, I'd like to see us three hang out more often. His friend that he came with is pretty cool too, I guess. Though I don't know much about him, being that I just met him.

The movie wasn't as good as I anticipated, but then again, it's hard to please me anymore. I have my classic favorites, and for as many movies being produced these days, you have to comb through the shit to get to the gold. I'd say that this definitely wasn't shit, but it was no _Old School_ or _Wedding Crashers_. I'm a big fan of comedy, and laughter is, as we've established before, a big part of my life. I love it, so a movie that can make me laugh until I cry is a good movie. Both of those did that too me. Hell, _Finding Nemo_ made me laugh till I cried when Dory was speaking in whale. Now _that's_ pathetic.

"What did you guys think?" I ask the guys as we make our way out of the theater. It is a little past 6 and the sun has begun to set over our hick mountain town.

"Hard to say," Jimmy offers. "Its no instant classic, but not too bad."

Kenny is dripping with excitement. "Dude, I thought it was AWESOME! Man, you guys don't know shit. Be a waiter and THEN go watch it and tell me its not fucking brilliant."

Kenny has a point. Once football was over, I would have to get a job. Probably waiting at some lame ass restaurant just like him.

"Well, fellas," Jimmy begins. "It was a pleasure running into you, like always. I do wish you a good night tonight," he said, directed more toward me than Ken. We told Jimmy about the whereabouts of our next rendezvous, and who would be there. Jimmy winks at me. "Be good, Stan"

I scoff at the mere thought of getting that choice to be good or bad. Never gonna happen…

"Bye, Jimmy!" Kenny waves, walking to the direction of my car. I nod and extend my hand out to the air to bid my farewell.

"Soooo…whadaya wanna do now?" Kenny says, swinging all of his words together. We pile into my still somehow working green car, and speed off in the opposite direction of Jimmy's nice, new silver Accord. Lucky son of a bitch.

"Don't care," I answer truthfully. We can't go to the party yet; it's still too early. "You hungry?"

"Always," Kenny replies with a slight grin.

"Okay, what do you feel like?"

"Food."

He's a quick one, that Kenny McCormick.

"Yeah?" I ask, laughing to myself. "What kind of food?"

"Good food."

Did I really have to ask? "All right. Glad we've figured that out."

Five minutes later, we settle on a local burger joint that has cute waitresses and a pinball machine. The waitresses are for Kenny, and the pinball is for me. I kick ass at that game. Both online and in real life.

I don't get that boy. I really don't. He spends the entire meal talking to me about how no girl likes him or thinks he's cute, yet its obvious to me that even our waitress is crushing on him. She lets her eyes drift to his side of the table more than mine. I catch her gaze drifting southward at times too, if you know what I mean. I don't think I've expressed to you how well endowed Kenny is. Seriously. I'm jealous as hell. Not only is that one of the things Kyle thinks is totally hot, but its also a super nice asset to have. He doesn't even like it either. Something about how girls don't see past it or something. Maybe it obstructs their view? Haha, I don't know. All I know is that if I had a package like Kenny, I would strip naked for Kyle and let him bask in all of my glory.

Was that a little much? Sorry.

Anyway, Kenny fails at the take-a-hint test. Our waitress might as well be sitting on his lap, she wants him that badly. She is pretty cute, I've decided. And the outfits they have to wear in this joint are awesome! You can tell exactly what kind of body she has and exactly what type of underwear she is wearing. Hot.

"Dude, ask her out," I coax to him. He needs to take this chance. It's not going to be a chance at all.

His eyes grow wide and he shakes his head vigorously. "No way, dude! She hates me. She's all about you."

I wonder if he really is that blind, or if he is just plain stupid. "Whatever, Kenny. I've asked a waitress out. Now its your turn." I'm referring to Lucy Tanner, quite possibly the _hottest_ woman I have ever seen in my entire life. We're talking a bar above the rest, pinch me cause I must be dreaming type girl. It all started when Kenny got a job working at the same restaurant as her. He would come to school telling me about how beautiful she was, and how nice she was, and how amazing she was. He built her up so much that when I finally did see her, I was a bit disappointed. Then Kenny got fired for some lame reason, and he didn't want to go there for a while. Finally, we started visiting her restaurant almost weekly. And, I don't know, she grew on me. We made sure to sit in her section, and after a while, I found myself just as much if not more attracted to her than Kenny was. He dared me to ask her out as a joke, and I did. She said her boyfriend wouldn't be too happy if she agreed to it. We made a joke out of the whole situation. It goes down in the record book for ballsiest move EVER by Stan Marsh.

"She's no BLT," he points out. BLT is what we call Lucy. Big Lucy Tanner. And no, she isn't. But that has nothing to do with anything. Kenny is going to chicken out again.

I sigh, admitting my defeat. The only way Kenny is ever going to ask someone out is if that person asks him out first. That way, he'll know that she likes him.

"So should I expect to get a ride home tonight?" he says, obviously switching subjects. I smile at his half-retarded comment.

"Only if my car breaks down." Why am I so lame with everything I say? Why do my friends like me? They are all way funnier than me.

Kenny situates himself in his seat, elbows propped up on the table, hands folded directly in front of me. He looks like he is going to get serious for a minute. "If that's the excuse you give to Kyle, he'll give you a ride. He'll give you the ride of your life!"

I smirk. "Ha ha very funny, asshole." I don't know why he insists on constantly reminding me about what I will never have. I throw my straw wrapper at him, hitting him square in the forehead.

"I'm just sayin'!" he attempts to explain, hands up in defense mode, but we are cut off when the cute waitress hands us our bill.

"You two have a great night," she says, the word 'great' oozing with friendliness. I'd say "thanks, you too", but I think she was only wishing it to Kenny. He is in her direct line of vision. She sends a weak smile my way, then spins around on her heels, heading off to the kitchen. Kenny should tip her his number.

As we walk out of the restaurant, I peer down at my watch. Its almost 8:00, which means that a fifteen trip to North Park would put us there before 8:30. I'll give us another half hour because we'll get lost, I know it. Even then, it'll only be 9:00. I don't want to seem like a lame-o, so I'm not sure if we should even go. Kenny could go either way, I think. He doesn't seem too into it, so I think we might just hang out together tonight.

Okay, I know what you are thinking. If I like Kyle so much, why am I not taking every chance to be at his side so that he may see how much he means to me? And sometimes I wonder the same thing. But then there is this thought in the back of my mind that he might already know I like him, and I may look an obsessive compulsive stalker to him, so if I _don't_ go tonight, it might be good for us.

Yeah, I know. Say what you will. Kenny and I will have a blast by ourselves.

And that is exactly what we intend to do. You know, sometimes, I have just as much fun just hanging out and watching movies with Ken than I do if I get all dressed and go out. Being eighteen, there are only a few clubs that we can get into, and Kenny and I usually end up somehow sneaking alcohol there. Sometimes we even drink a whole lot before we step inside the club. Whatever, its still fun. But lately, I haven't been in the mood to go out. Its not like guys are supposed to have fun dancing when they go out anyway.

I have a secret.

I love to dance! So does Kenny. So when we go out, we are two of the only guys out on that dance floor. If we get that far. It's not really highly accepted, you know for two guys to dance. And definitely not together. So the only time I get my fix is if there are girls there too. And, well, lately, I just haven't been that into girls. So you understand now why I don't want to go out.

Kenny keeps pushing it on me, and eventually I'll just break down and go out with him. I'd be much happier just chillin' inside with my friend, drinking a few beers though.

"Isn't that your phone?" I hear him ask me, and faintly, I hear my newly downloaded song, "Can't Repeat" by The Offspring, playing in my coat pocket. I flip up the pocket, checking my caller ID. It's Wendy.

"Hey girl, what you up to?" I say casually into the phone.

"Aye! STAN! Get your ass over hyah!" she screams, already drunk. Wendy is my party friend, and I love her for that. As much as we all hate Cartman, we all have adapted to saying words like him, especially Wendy. What? It's addicting!

I allow myself to laugh at her goofiness. Kenny's ears perk up, wanting to know what I'm laughing about.

"What are you guys doing over there?" I ask curiously. I have two main sub groups of friends. Aside from Kenny, who is usually part of these groups, there is Kyle, Emery, Jacob, and Bebe, and then there is Wendy, sometimes Jimmy, and anyone else in school. Wendy is pretty well liked as the fun party girl. Jimmy hangs out with whoever—he is pretty universal. I wonder if he'll be there.

"You know, the usual! It's just a bunch of the guys over here. You and Kenny should come over." I smile at her assumption that Kenny is with me. How well our friends know us.

That is enough convincing for me. I look at Kenny, and without verbal confirmation from him, tell Wendy we'll be over in five. We hop in into my car, and zoom off in the direction of her house. All the while, I forget, for a split second, that I have made a promise with myself to go see Kyle. Oh well. I probably won't miss much. Plus I'll feel more comfortable with all the guys from South Park. Where I know people. Where I am familiar with life. Where people like me. Where I don't have to think about impressing anyone.

Where I don't have to think about Kyle.

I happily drive to Wendy's, making a pit stop at the local grocery store for some Coke for mixed drinks. A night with the guys is just what I need.

---

Oh, for the record, "Can't Repeat" IS my newly downloaded ringtone. The Offspring is my favorite band. I heart them as much as South Park! That's A LOT of love : )


	5. Just The Two Of Us

Okay, BIG wave of inspiration hit me last night. Couldn't ignore it. I was a typing machine! Hope you like. Thank you to my reviewers.

Chapter 5- **Just The Two Of Us**

Man, that night with the guys WAS just what I needed. It gave me chance to let loose, be one with the guys, play some cards, get smashed, you know. Fun times. Sorry to not fill you in on the details about it. It was nothing special, though I'm pretty sure Wendy is just working up to the day when she tells me how she feels. I'm sure she already knows I know, but she hasn't told me yet. That's how I feel about Kyle. Anyway, we just pretend that we are friends, and she ignores any feeling she has toward me. I feel bad, cause she always lets me drink her shit and she does everything for me. Its not that I make her do it…she just does it without asking.

Kenny and I left her house sometime around 1 or 2, and then he and I just went back to his house and watched a movie.

The next day, I called Kyle. I felt guilty as hell for not showing up, but I don't know why. I mean, I didn't _promise_ I'd be there. And he probably didn't care either way. Kyle's a pretty well liked guy. How's a kid like me going to affect him? He had a better time without me.

Okay, this is the attitude I need to stop. Cause when I heard Kyle's voice, my heart turned to mush, and I felt like a lower form of scum than what I had been before. I beat myself up too much about the whole situation. And I'm too hard on myself. Trust me, I really don't have that bad of self-esteem! I hate that liking Kyle has done this to me! If he knew how I felt, it would be probably be a big turn off for him. It's probably a big turn off for anybody.

I do like myself. Lets go over a self-affirmation statement. I am a lovable, worthwhile human being. I like myself. Ha, did your health teacher ever make you recite this in front of a mirror as practice in class? Mine did.

So yeah. Back to feeling good about myself. Today I had a good day. I came to school, bright, cheery, and ready to face the world. This feeling comes and goes. I feel a boost of confidence when I'm around Kyle on these days, because if I like myself, then he can like me too. Right? RIGHT? This just isn't some good hair day feeling either. Most of the time, I'm pretty happy with the type of person I am. Happy with who I've become, who my friends are, what I choose to partake in…

"Hey dude."

I stare at him blankly. Kyle is so cute. SO cute.

I clear my throat. "Hey Kyle! How are you today?"

"Ah, not too bad. I'm real interested in going to see this band tonight, they're local. Should be a good time. You wanna come?"

I scan the air for my answer. Mom and dad don't need me. Kenny has to work. Grandpa is…well I NEVER hang out with him. Wendy is WHO CARES ABOUT WENDY Kyle just asked me to go somewhere with him! Just ME! JUST ME!

"Uh…sure!" I accept, as casually as it is humanly possible when you want to squeal and dance and scream.

"Word!" He uses his phrase in such a manner that it is more than excitement. It is happiness. Happiness that I have accepted his invitation. Could it be? Could it be?

"When is it?" I ask, anxiously.

"Just come to my house after school. We'll be there."

_We?_ "Who is we?" I had to ask.

"Emery and Jacob and me. Maybe Bebe, I'm not sure. You know, those guys are probably at my house more than I am." He says this with a small laugh. I sigh under my breath. Of course they are going to be there. It couldn't be just Stan and Kyle. It couldn't be the night I have been waiting for. No, that would asking for too much. Stan loses at life, once again.

"Oh, alright then." I try my best to conceal my emotion, but I think Kyle can sense I am heartbroken. He takes an extra long glance at me before saying his goodbye, and trotting off to the next class. I watch him walk away, observing his every curve, his bounce in his step. I probably take a little too long of look, because before I know it, Kenny waves his hands in front of my face in a not-so-subtle distraction.

"Are you feeling weak in the knees?" he asks, laughing loudly. Just as I turn to him to see what the hell he wants, he kicks me in my knees, and I almost come crashing backward.

"Kenny you asshole!" I yell. I've had it up to here with his jokes. It's not funny anymore! I was SO CLOSE to being with Kyle alone. And now it will never happen. I just know it!

Kenny takes a few steps back, admitting his defeat. He must know I'm pissed off, because he doesn't go near the subject of Kyle anymore.

"Whoa dude, chill," he suggests. "I'm just kidding with you."

I shrug it off and start walking with him toward our World Lit class. I notice a slight bounce in HIS step too. "Hey what's up with you? You seem awfully giddy."

Kenny's grin extends from ear to ear. He nods his head once, confirming my observation.

This sends a smile to my lips too. Deep down, I know that whatever it is, it has to do something with girls. You don't see him smile like that unless it has to do with girls. And sense his last breakup, Kenny's not been able to get his girl fix.

"Do I dare ask what is going on?"

Kenny just keeps smiling. "OH, nothing." His grin widens, if that's possible. "Just that I might have heard about someone who wants to hook up with me."

My eyes grow wide with happiness. "Really! Who!"

"A friend of Amber's. She told me this chic thinks I'm hot, and she would like to get with me." He pauses and turns his whole body to me. "Dude, I'll take it. I need this so bad."

"Heck yeah you do!" I exclaim, barely able to contain my excitement for him. I don't want things to get complicated, but I have explain to you Kenny's best girl friend. Her name is Amber, and she is older than us. She graduated a year ago, and, for some reason, her and Kenny got pretty close before she graduated. Not in a relationship way, though Amber hits on him constantly. Hell, Amber hits on me constantly. Amber hits on every breathing male. Even though she's got a serious boyfriend. Anyway, they share a bond of friendship that I don't dare impose on. The closest girlfriend I consider to have is Wendy, and she and I's relationship doesn't even compare to Kenny and Amber's.

I don't see her that often, but I'm not as attached to her as Kenny is. Amber is part of Kenny's life. Not mine.

"When did you find this out?" I ask, wanting to find out more.

"I called Amber after you left Saturday night. We were just talkin', and she mentioned this friend of hers who's in my class. I know this girl, she's not that bad looking."

"That's awesome, dude!"

Kenny's smile dies down. "So how do I do this? I can't just walk up to her and say 'hey, you wanna get together?'"

I chuckle. "Ha, why not? You already know that's what she wants! Just do it dude!"

"Whoa, this is going to be weird," he notes.

"And cool!" I add.

We walk side by side into the classroom filled with curious eavesdropping eyes. I swear that everyone in here wants to know exactly what is going on with everyone all at once. Their brains crave gossip. It drives me crazy. Girls that gossip drive me insane. There are two in our class that I want to strangle. And I'm pretty sure they heard what we were talking about. I just look over at them, bugging my eyes out and staring blatantly.

"Yes, ladies?" I ask over-politely, taking a seat next to one of them. She would be pretty cute if it weren't for her abysmal personality.

"Can we HELP you?" Kenny chimes in. They give us a disgusted look and return to today's fresh headlines. Kenny and I just look at each other and send out a mental high five.

"Alright, guys, lets settle down!" Mr. James says seriously, signaling for class to start. He waits a few more minutes, and the majority of the chatter dies down. "Lets get started, shall we?"

I'm in no mood to pay attention to world literature today. I take out a piece of notebook paper and start doodling all over it in pencil. I sketch a little scene of Kenny and this mystery woman in bed together—rather pornographic for a cartoon I must say—and draw those talk bubbles over the people. The 'Kenny' character says "give it to me baby", and the girl says "uh huh, uh huh!" I smile at my achievement, sending it Kenny's way. It doesn't travel far. We sit side by side.

I look at his face as he reddens with embarrassment. I watch him make what looks like chicken scratch for a few minutes, before the paper sails right back at me. I stare down, looking at a rather hideous rendering of me sticking it to an awkwardly drawn Kyle. The characters are so crudely drawn, with absolutely no way to tell who it is or what they are doing except for the giant sign above them labeled "Stan" and "Kyle" and "Let's Get it On". I bust out laughing at Kenny's portrayal.

Uh oh.

"Mr. Marsh, you seem oddly moved by Opdyke's book. Would you care to tell us why, or at what, you could possibly be laughing?"

I really have no fucking idea whats going on. Like I read the chapter we were supposed to. I sink very low into my chair, hoping to disappear.

I try my best to cover my mistake. I know the book is about a woman and some guy she works for. I heard that from Kenny. Remind me to listen to him when he's catching me up on assignments. "Uh, well…what she talks about…about that guy that she works for, it's just funny to me."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, you know. Because she doesn't want to. Work for him, that is." This much I know.

"Yes, that's true. But why is that funny?" Goddammit, I hate you, Mr. James. Always trying to make us pay attention. Probing our brains for signs of intelligence. Stupid good teacher.

"It just is." Yeah, I'm fucked.

Mr. James furrows his brow. "It just is." He turns to the rest of the class. "Does anyone else think working for a man to stay out of a concentration camp is funny?"

Oh, shit.

"Better yet, does anyone else think that being forced to be that man's mistress because he caught you hiding Jews in his attic is funny? Cause if you do, I'd really like you to express your thoughts now."

Dammit.

"Did _anyone_ read the chapter? Let me see a show of hands!" I blush fervently as the entire rest of the class raises their hand. Yes, they could be bluffing. But then again, they probably aren't.

"We'll see about this, guys," Mr. James continues. "Take out a sheet of paper, and write down the name of this man that Irene worked for, and tell me his position."

Double shit.

Mr. James walks to the back of the classroom, placing an angry hand on my shoulder. It sucks, I disappointed my favorite teacher. Maybe this won't be such a great day after all. "Mr. Marsh, I sincerely doubt you would find any of this funny if you had read the chapter." _Ouch_. "I'm afraid we are going to have to arrange some after school time."

And just like that, my day has turned to shit. Not only will I get detention, I might miss getting to see Kyle. I risked it all. And now Kenny is going to get some, come back and brag about it, and I am going to be sitting at home, alone, wallowing in my sorrow. When will there EVER be a break for Stanley Marsh?

---

I feel like pouting as I am handed a detention slip at the end of the period. I feel like begging for forgiveness from Mr. James, but I know there is no way I am ever going to get out of this. Sucks. Only my third detention this year. I'm not normally a troublemaker, but I get caught when I do cause a scene.

I sigh and look to Kenny with pleading eyes. Not sure why, there is nothing he can do. He sends me back a look of compassion.

"I'm sorry," is all he has to say to me as we part ways for our next classes. One more class in the day, then I have to show up to detention. Otherwise I'll get a Saturday school. No way in hell I am going to get a Saturday school.

Last period goes by painfully slow. Its advanced Algebra, and I don't have any friends in it. Kyle is way too smart for that shit at a senior level, and Kenny got out of math when he could. Jimmy and Wendy are in some other class. There are a few nice people in the class, but no one I can really look to make the time pass by quickly. There is this girl. Her name is DJ. Not sure what it stands for. Kenny has a class with her I think. He thinks she's a pretty cool chick. I think she's kinda cool too. We don't have too much in common. But she's cute, in my eyes. She and I flirt at times. Makes math a bit more fun. The way she looks at me…I have a feeling we are going to lose it one day and just break down and make out in the janitor's closet. That'd be cool.

Don't want to tell Wendy that though. They hang out together.

"See you later, Stan," she coos as the bell rings. I watch her stand up out of her seat, walk the long direction around the desk formation, and disappear through the door. That whole time she watches me too. I'm surprised she didn't trip on anything. I would have.

Okay, so that was the last bell of the day. In about five minutes, I'll be expected in detention. GAH I don't wanna go! I pick myself up and shuffle my feet out of the classroom. Detention hall is on the first floor at the very edge of school, and I'm in the middle of the building on the second floor. The sounds of excited voices talking about their plans for after school fill the air, engulfing me. I can barely breathe as I make my way down the crowded halls of anxious teens. Its weird to think that in another two minutes, these hallways will be completely vacant of any souls, except the occasional detention kid. Like me.

I walk past them, ignoring their mocking faces and accusing glares. I might just be paranoid.

My head is hung low as I slowly approach my destiny for the next hour and a half. The doorknob is ice cold to my fingers' touch as I rotate it, sealing my fate. I drudge over to the lone teacher's desk in the front center of the classroom. One look at the detention Nazi herself, and I fall into despair. This is more horrible punishment than Hell itself.

"Ah, Mr. Marsh, we have been expecting you," she says in an eerily soothing tone. "You may take a seat over against the wall next to Mr. Broflovski." She nods her round face once, eyes looking at me over her thick glasses, and points in the direction that she is talking about.

I blink twice. Did she just say Mr. Broflovski? I swing my head around so fast I swear I throw it out of socket. Sure enough, Kyle is sitting in the back corner, leaning back in his chair, balancing a pencil in between his nose and his upper lip. At the sound of his name, he immediately straightens up, shrugging his shoulders and stealing a glance around the room.

Kyle is in detention with me! Forget that I mentioned Hell, this is HEAVEN! I practically skip down the aisle to my designated seat. Which is one row in front of him. I happily sit down in the uncomfortable chair, turning to face my friend.

"What are you doing in here?" I ask. Last time I checked, Kyle was a pretty damn good student. Then again, he does have his wild, sporadic side. He is full of surprises.

"Argued with my philosophy teacher till she got angry," he explains matter-of-factly. "Mean old hag didn't have a clue what the fuck she was talkin' about."

I chuckle. "Did you tell her that?"

He grins. "Maybe."

"Ah. Well, dude, that sucks."

He shrugs his shoulders, looking deep into my eyes. The kind of look that sends a heat wave throughout my entire body. "What'd you do?"

"Laughed out loud in class when we were talking about the Holocaust."

His eyes light up with shock. "Dude! That's horrible!"

It takes me a little longer to register what I just said. Stan, you dumbass! Oh my God, now I sound like a fucking anti-Semite! "NO!" I blurt out, almost too loud. I clear my throat, leaning in closer. "Kenny drew a dirty picture that made me laugh when we were talking about some book that I didn't read the chapter for. That's it," I say, affirming my non-racist beliefs. Lord knows I don't have a problem with anyone, really.

"I see." We sit in silence.

I take time out to absorb Kyle. He looks particularly cute today. His hair is an attempted spike, though it's really just falling down. But it's shiny and perfect. It's long enough now that it covers the tips of his ears. He has his spacers in his ears today, and his lip ring only makes his lips look full and pouty. His freckles are amplified with the red of his shirt, which is a button up. His emerald eyes are soulful, his smile lopsided. His arms are so small and white and freckled, laid out on the desk in front of me. He's just so adorable. But it's not adorable as in pinch-your-cheeks cute. It's hot. He makes looking like a kid hot. Ew, that sounded gross. Okay, if you don't know what I mean, you're just going to have to trust me.

It's like the Catholic schoolgirl. Or the nerdy, shy librarian. She's just hot, no questions asked. And there really isn't anything too hot about her either. The clothes don't reveal, the hair is pulled back, the face is plain. But then there are those glasses…the stockings…the plaid skirt….

Kyle IS that character. He's just hot. It's just him. The end.

"Stan?" I zone back in to a concerned, waiting face. Shit! Kyle just caught me staring at him. One of these days, I'm doing to start to drool, and THEN I'll have to explain THAT. I hope it never comes to that. At least not until he knows how I feel.

"What do you say that we just head back to my place after this? We can still make it to the concert, I don't think its starts until like six or after." His eyes never fail to look directly into mine, not blinking. How could I possibly say no to a face like that? Never mind the fact that it's going to be all Kyle, all day long!

"Yeah, that sounds good," I accept gratefully. I'm starting to believe I was meant to laugh in Mr. James class. Just so we could have this very moment.

"Word."

---

"Let us leave!" I silently beg, anxious to get out of this room. It is 4:28, and the ridiculous teacher is going to hold out until 4:30 on the dot. I know this, but I am still anxious. My butt is on the edge of the chair, my legs shaking up and down. I probably look like a child on Christmas morning waiting to open presents. None of this matters because in two minutes I will be sailing down the highway with Kyle by my side. Just the two of us.

"Time's up, ladies and gentleman. Have a good day," the detention Nazi speaks, and all of us flock to the door, simultaneously.

"Ready to get out of here?" I ask an eager Kyle, who is trotting along side me.

"Heck yeah! Lets blow this joint!" He looks up to me, sending a me a smile that even the depths of my stomach can feel. He strolls over to his locker, dumping all of the unnecessary junk into it before he signals a 'let's go' to me with a quick nod of his head.

The cool breeze feels refreshing as I take a deep breath in driving out of the parking lot. We sail down the main road, soon to be at the Broflovski residence. The new school was built less than five minutes walk away. Which is why Kyle usually walks to school. But I'm not leaving my car in the school parking lot, and he didn't protest when I offered to drive. So here we are.

"I hope my parents aren't home. I really don't want to deal with them. Or Ike, for that matter," Kyle says as I place the car in park, unbuckling our seat belts. From the outside, I can't see any signs of life. But that doesn't say much.

It seems as soon as we open the front door to his house that we are already making our way down the stairs of the basement. Kyle doesn't waste any time upstairs. He wants to be in his domain. His comfort zone. I wish Kyle would come over to my house sometime. He's never been. That's where I am most comfortable. Granted, Kyle's basement is pretty damn relaxing. But I always feel tired when I leave there. I think there is always a trace of pot lingering in the air. Just enough to make me want to take a nap.

"What do you want to do for the next hour or so?" he asks me. What do I want to do? He probably doesn't want to know what I'd like to do. With him. To him…

"Doesn't matter to me. I'm pretty flexible," I reply. Its true. I can be real flexible. Especially after my secret Yoga stretching dates with my mom.

"Word," he says. We sit down, facing opposite of each other, and he pulls out a bag of white cheddar popcorn out from under the couch. "Hungry?" he asks, offering me a handful. "Its not too stale."

I never pass up popcorn. "Sure!" I reach into the bag, pulling out a generous portion. I pop each kernel into my mouth, relishing in the cheesy goodness. Kyle does the same. We talk about school, relationships, the past few years, his coming out, the whole bit. It's really more of a chance for me to get to know more about him than anything. I'm not even pushing for much now. We've never had this much time to spend together alone. And fate as brought us here. I sit back, and listen to him talk about his ex, and how he broke his heart. I listen with a sympathetic ear as he tells me about the many times that douche cheated on him and I grit my teeth. What I really want to do is tell Kyle he deserves better, climb over the coffee table, and kiss him with the passion I feel rising within me. Instead, I agree when he calls him an asshole, nod when he says he's probably better off, and lend my two cents here and there.

Kyle's ex boyfriend makes me want to scream. How could anyone treat him that way? That guy was a tool. He claimed to have loved Kyle, practically fed off of him like a parasite, and used him for all of his positive qualities. Then he turned around and slept with a girl. Kyle broke it off with him, and apparently, the dick wouldn't let it go. He tried to come crawling back and Kyle, being the beautiful person he is, gave him an undeserved second chance. Because when the pathetic excuse of a man slept with yet another, Kyle was in tears again.

I guess the last of all of this happened less than a week ago. Kyle hadn't had a chance to talk about it with anyone else. It was all me. I was the shoulder to cry on. I was there to comfort him. I tried my best to relate experiences I had with ex's to help him out, but in the end, I think it was better for me to just listen. He needed that. And I needed him to know that I could be that person.

"What time is it?" he asked, not long after we had sat down. I peered down at my watch.

"Oh shit, its 6:15!" I cried. Guess the time in Kyle's basement flies by. "Should we go soon?"

Kyle ponders this idea for a minute before replying, "Yeah probably."

"Alright, let me just call home real quick. You know, check in," I notify him, and flip open my phone. Kenny has called twice. Something tells me I should probably call him back, cause I'm the one that usually calls Kenny, but I'm going to ignore him this time. He'll understand. I quickly dial my home digits. A woman's voice picks up.

"Hello?"

"Hey, mom, I'm not going to be home for dinner tonight." My mom is cool and all, I'm not asking for permission. But I respect her enough to let her know where I'm at. Its not like she'll care.

"Alright, sweetie. Is everything okay?" Silly mom. Just like her to worry.

"Yeah everything's cool. Kyle and I are going to go to some local concert."

A pause on the other end. "Kyle. Kyle is your gay friend, right?" I sigh at my mother's obvious remark. It makes me sad that she points that out every time. She's a pretty open person, but this is the reason I'm not ready to tell her how I feel.

"Yes," I reply in short. No need to go into that subject any further. "Oh, by the way, I got detention today for laughing out loud in class. That's why I haven't been home. I've been at Kyle's ever since."

"You what?" she asks, disappointment coating her voice. "Wait, let's talk about this Stan…"

"No time, mom!" I cut her off. "I'll talk to you about it tomorrow night. I gotta go!"

"Are you going to be with Kyle all night tonight? It's a school night." Now she is just getting motherly and protective and I don't need that. This is already too long of a conversation. Kyle is stirring restlessly.

"I know! Look, I'll be home late. I have to go now though, Kyle's waiting. Love you!" I say, and wait for her to acknowledge me and then hang up. I look to Kyle, who in return stares at me with a small smile. "Done."

"Alright! Lets go!" he announces, slapping the couch cushions and prying himself off of them.

By the time we pull into the local bar that the concert is being held at, it is nearly 7:00. Everything good starts at 7:00 or later in South Park. I imagine that's when the band will play. I pull my car around back to a deserted alley and a dark parking lot. "You sure my car will be cool here?" I'm a little hesitant. This is down town South Park, which has the tendency to be scary at night now that it's grown. When I was eight, I remember downtown consisted of the plastic surgeon, J-Mart, and the abortion clinic. Maybe a few other things. You get the point. Now it's this huge ordeal. With bikers and thugs. Maybe gangs, I'm not sure. I'm too scared to find out.

"It'll be fine. We'll be out of here in no time," Kyle assures me. He's so calm about this all. Well, it's not his car though. But he's so small, I'm pretty sure some mugger could break him in half if he looked at him wrong.

"I'm just not sure if I fe-"

"Stan. It's going to be fine." He places a hand on my leg and gazes deeply into my eyes. All breathing has ceased, and I can feel my heart beating out of my chest. The warmth of his hand spreads from my leg to other…areas…

I swallow. Hard. His hand is still on my leg. Is he waiting for me to respond? If I never respond, will his hand never move? I'm frozen.

"You don't need to worry."

Still not moving…

"Okay?"

I manage to take a deep breath, and in one last lame attempt to connect with him, I smile warmly. "Are _you_ going to protect me?"

Kyle smiles. Big. I can see all of his teeth. But he doesn't say anything. He just keeps looking at me. Looking at me and smiling. Finally, he speaks. "I certainly will."

All I can do is smile back. He removes his hand, and we exit the car.

I almost feel like clinging to him for support as we walk around the side to the front door. There are shady looking people everywhere. I am very uncomfortable. Kyle seems so chill. I wish I knew what was going through his mind right now.

"Alright, now the guy at the door is going to ask for some ID's, but you have to leave it up to me. I know what to do."

Huh? Is this going to an illegal act for us? Shit, I can't lie for nothing. We're screwed if I'm asked to produce an ID. I don't have a fake. Wait a minute. Kyle looks twelve. How the hell is he _ever_ going to get us into a 21 and over bar? Let's pray he knows what he is talking about.

As we approach the door, I grow wearier and wearier. The bouncer looks like he doesn't waste his time with punks like us. Kyle better have some magic up that coat sleeve of his. I feel his pace quicken the closer we get, his strides grow longer. What the hell is he planning to do? Is Kyle really so cool that people will LET him go into places for being him? He walks over to the not-so-small bouncer with all smiles.

"Hey, Bruce!" he warmly welcomes the scary looking man. Immediately, Bruce's eyes shine and his stance softens. Holy fucking shit, Kyle IS the man.

"Broflovski! What brings you downtown tonight?"

Kyle looks up at the 6ft plus beast of a man and puts his hand on the guy's arm. "Bruce, you know exactly why I'm here. My friend and I want to hear some good music!" He leans in close, barely going past this man's elbows. "Can you make that happen for us?"

Bruce furrows his brow. "You know, I'm going to have to ask you for some ID," he says, winking so that only Kyle and I catch it. Kyle gladly hands over what looks like a library card, and Bruce inspects it. He looks at me, and I show him my school ID. And like that, we walk in. We fucking walk right into the bar. The music surrounds us as soon as we enter, and I lose any chance at all to ask Kyle what the hell just happened. I want to know so many things…

"Let's find a good spot!" Kyle yells at me, over the music. I follow him to the middle of the bar, where the band drowns out even the deepest of my thoughts. Every time I lean over to talk to Kyle, the music intensifies, and I lose focus of the world around me. Occasionally, he looks over to me for a nod of approval, and I smile back at him.

I spend most of the concert inching myself closer to Kyle, until I am practically in his lap. We end up finding a table about halfway through, where we sit and enjoy a beer or two. I will never know how Kyle didn't get busted. He looked like the youngest person in there by ten years. I myself look pretty fucking young, but Kyle doesn't even look sixteen. Hell, he doesn't even look like a teenager just from his size. Yet we sit through the entire concert, unharassed. It really isn't a bonding time for us; at least I don't consider it that way. The music is loud, the band is awesome, and the atmosphere is so filled with smoke, it's going to take me a year to get the smell out of my jacket.

It's the best night of my life.

The singer says it's going to be their last song, and the bar starts to die down. I look down at my watch. 11:45. Not too bad. After it is finished, the regular old jukebox music kicks on, leaving me sad and deaf.

"What'd you think?" Kyle asks me. It is obvious to me how much he enjoyed it. What if I were to say it was awful? That would crush him. I didn't think it was awful though. I love concerts. There is something about a live band that makes my adrenaline run sky high. This was even a pretty relaxed band. More of Kyle's style, not mine. I still appreciate it though.

"Amazing," I say, speaking about both the band _and_ the boy sitting beside me.

I swear it looks like Kyle is blushing. He pushes a stray auburn curl out of his face, as the humidity in the bar has made his hair a bit curly. He gazes down at the floor before joining my eyes once again. We lock stares for at least a minute until he looks back down again.

"You wanna get out of here?" he asks me. Hell yes I do. Smelly, musty, smoky bar? No thank you! I want to be with you, back in your basement.

I nod, and again, I follow him, out of the building I will probably never see again. At least not for another three years.

As we walk back out to my car, my curiosity gets the best of me. "Okay, I have to ask."

Kyle looks up from his path on the ground. "Hm?"

I stop walking. "How the HELL did you get us in there?" He lets out a short laugh, and signals for me to keep walking. I don't want to walk. I want to know how it happened. Don't you want to know how it happened?

"Bruce is cool," is all he has to say.

I shake my head and shoot my hands outward in disbelief. "So!"

Kyle walks over to me and yanks me back into walking mode. "So, I got in good with him. We're buddies."

I look down at my unbelievable friend, awaiting more of an explanation. His silhouette glows in the moonlight.

"How did you manage to do that?"

Kyle grins. I can't tell for sure, but his grin looks to be one of complete mischief. "In exchange for some under the table favors, of course."

I laugh off his joke, accepting the fact that I will never know how he got us in there. We drive back to his house relatively in silence. I steal a glance every some odd feet at this profile. His head is propped on his hand, staring out my passenger window. We pull into his driveway, the air thick with silence and tension. Sexual? I wish.

"Well, I had fun tonight," I conclude, not sure what to do next. If it were Kenny, we'd spend another ten hours in the car summarizing the events. But I can't do that with Kyle. I'll jump him before he even gets a chance to speak if I'm not careful.

He turns his head my way. "Me too. Thanks for coming with me, Stan."

"Thanks for inviting me."

Kyle returns his focus to an apparently fascinating spot on my floor. He doesn't say anything for quite some time, but he doesn't move a muscle either. I wish I knew what he was thinking. I think this was an incredible day for us. We had a breakthrough. It was just us. I am so happy, I could reach over and hug him. I want to do more, but I can't bring myself to move either.

"I should get going," he says finally. He shifts his eyes back up from the floor to my hopeful eyes. I know he can see the yearning in them. I know he can feel the heat between us. I know he can see how badly I want him to stay. But, with that, he unbuckles his seat belt, and opens the door. As he stands outside my car, peering inside the still open door, he says, "I'll see you tomorrow."

I wave goodbye in disappointment. "See ya," I finally manage. _In my dreams_.

I don't think I blinked during that whole time. I watch hopelessly as he walks up to his door, disappearing into the darkness of his house.

---

---

The book Stan was supposed to read was _In My Hands_, a true heroic account by Irene Gut Opdyke. A pretty depressing but good book that I had to read for my Holocaust class in college. Don't ask why I chose it, it's probably not appropriate for high school. Oh well, we'll roll with it.


	6. How's It Going To Be

Chapters keep getting longer! I can't help it, I had a lot of frustration built inside of me yesterday, and I slammed this out. Now that I have an end goal in mind, this story line is playing along perfectly. A BIG thanks to all of my faithful reviewers, and to all of you who pop up here and there to let me know what you think! I'm so glad you guys like the depth of Stan's emotions. Keep reading!

Chapter 6- **How's It Going To Be**

"So you guys shared a moment," Kenny tells me, winking and grinning. We are sitting in the middle of the auditorium, people surrounding us. For the time being though, it's just me and Kenny. Alone in the world. And I just told him what went down last night.

"Not exactly a moment," I rationalize. "It could have been anything, really. It might be all in my head." I have a tendency to dream big. I have a tendency to lose track of reality and my thoughts bleed over to my ideal life. I shake my head. No. Last night really did happen. And it happened perfectly.

Kenny shrugs his shoulders. "Whatever, dude. Give yourself credit. Maybe this is what you've been waiting for!"

He does have a point. I accept this optimism, putting it in the back of my mind.

We spend the rest of the study hall period fairly silent, too busy working on homework assignments. We spent too much time at the beginning, catching each other up on the happenings of last night. And now we have to hurry up.

Kenny made out with that chick. It's funny how it happened too. Amber invited Kenny over to her apartment, and the girl, Mandy, was there, along with Amber's boyfriend, Nick. They were all drinking, and I guess they decided to play an old fashioned game of spin-the-bottle. He said there were rules about the first time you kiss a person; it's a quick peck. Second time, it's a longer peck. Third time, open mouth. Fourth time, its French kiss all the way. The first pair to get to the fourth round wins. Kenny and Mandy won. I guess they felt they needed to go into overtime, cause Mandy took Kenny to the guest room and asked him to make out. Of course he didn't protest.

Kenny came home sometime around 7 this morning. Just in time to get ready for school.

"She is GOOD," he told me. "I hope we hook up again."

But that's where it will end if Mandy doesn't call him. He wouldn't dream of calling her. He doesn't want to interrupt people when they are busy. I think its bullshit. If he's got the hook up, why not take advantage of it? I would.

"You have class with Kyle next period, don't you," I ask him, well aware that he does. The bell just rang, and I pick up my scattered books, preparing for the next class. I'm glad I have a study period second period. Gives me a chance to do all of my homework for the upcoming day.

Kenny nods. "Yep." He nudges my side. "Bet you thought you'd never want to be in advanced chemistry so much, did ya?"

I laugh at his comment. Oh, Kenny. You have no idea.

"Tell him I said hi!" I say, walking out of the auditorium.

"Oh, I'll tell him you said 'hi'," he mocks, raising his eyebrows and thrusting his body into his books rapidly. I think it's about the time that he starts moaning loudly and humping the wall that Mrs. Harper clears her throat loudly and draws even more attention to my insane friend.

"Mr. McCormick, I do not believe that is appropriate behavior in school. If you have something you need to attend to, I suggest you do it in private," she roars, unbelievably angry for such a little thing. What's funny is that she tries to be professional, and is completely serious when she says shit like that, but its so God dammed funny, Kenny and I try hard to contain our laughter. In my opinion, Mrs. Harper has a lot of sexual tension built up inside her, because she calls us out every time for anything remotely sexual. She needs to get laid. Though I don't think anyone is up for that task. I don't want to think of the poor schmuck she calls her husband.

"My deepest apologies, Mrs. Harper," he says insincerely and bowing his head, which only adds fuel to the fire. Kenny, watch it, or you're going to end up with your ass in detention.

She narrows her eyes and raises one eyebrow. Kenny smiles a disturbingly sweet smile. Just when I think he's in for it, we disappear around the corner. Away from her death glare.

"Phew, that was close!" I exclaim, holding my chest. I hate getting in trouble. Kenny brings it on. At least, he acts that way. Deep down, I think he's scared shitless of any kind of authority figure. I think it's just his home life that makes him act like the tough guy. He's as soft as freshly baked cookies on the inside. Don't tell him I told you that.

"Nah, you worry too much Stan," he tells me. See what I mean? "Anyway, I gotta go to class. And see Kyle-wyle!" Again, he makes kissing noises until we are separated by at least two different crowds of people. I wave him away. Stupid Kenny.

I make my way down the opposite hallway, on my way to history. Someone bumps into me rudely, and I turn around to give them a piece of my mind, only to stare at a chuckling Jimmy.

"Hey buddy," he says. "How are you doing?" Jimmy likes to pronounce each and every syllable of every word. I think its part of his learning-to-not-stutter program.

"I'm okay," I reply truthfully. That close-call last period has me a bit shaken up. Plus I'm getting sick of Kenny's public display of my affections. "How are you?"

"Oh, everything is fantastic! I have not seen you in a while, so I thought I would say hey." I guess that's partly true. I haven't seen him since the movies on Saturday.

I weakly smile. "Hi."

"What is wrong?" he asks, noticing my slight hint of uneasiness.

What is wrong? What is wrong! I just had the time of my life last night with Kyle, and now I know for sure that I like him a whole bunch, and I want to be with him, and I know he'll never feel the same way about me so I just have to sit and go along with daily life, trying to forget this feeling, forget everything because the chances of me getting with him are about zero. Even if we did share a moment together, I doubt he saw it that way. So really, I'm just as miserable and confused as before. "Nothing, man, I'm cool," I respond. Yeah, that sounds better.

"You most certainly do not look cool. But if you do not want to tell me, then I will have to assume you are okay."

"I'm okay," I repeat. I like Jimmy, but I don't have the time, or the want, to go into detail about last night's 'moments.' For real though, I'm scared. I'm excited as fuck because I know that Kyle and I are real cool now, but how can I get him to like me? How can I go on without telling him how I feel? Will I even be able to tell him? Shit, this sucks. Yeah, yeah I know. I can't be happy about anything. But trust me, when…I mean if…Kyle tells me he wants to be with me, I'll be doing little fairy dances out on the football field when its raining.

Jimmy shrugs his shoulders. "Whatever you say. I need to get to class, but we should hang out again sometime soon!" I nod my head in agreement, and he waves goodbye to me.

"Bye Jimmy!" I say as I am standing about twenty feet in front of the room I call home for the next fifty minutes. God help me.

---

It is now December. It's been a little over a month since Kyle and I hung out at that bar downtown. I'm out of football now. I know I didn't go into too much detail about that, but I'm actually really sad that it's over. For good. I'm not good enough to make it in college.

Things are going pretty well. Kenny got himself another make out buddy, in addition to that Mandy chick. Another girl in another one of his classes. He alternates them weekly, depending on what he is in the mood for. He and I are still the best of friends. Not that too much would happen in a month that we wouldn't be. Just letting you know.

Kyle is still the same incredible guy he has always been. We've hung out a lot in the past month. With other people, in big groups…even alone! There was one time that I swear we were going to kiss, but, as always, it must have been my imagination. We were hanging out in his basement, just talking. We do that a lot. Kyle doesn't like TV, so talking is the preferred alternative.

It was the most cliché experience ever, but we both reached into the popcorn bowl at the same time, lightly brushing each other's hand. I'm sure my hand flinched at the soft feel of his, wanting to latch on forever, but I let him have first dibs on the puffed goodness. Popcorn had been and is now our snack of choice. Anyway, it was that moment that my heart beat soared through the clouds because when he touched my hand accidentally we locked gazes and his mouth almost seemed to mouth words "I want you." His lips were parted every so slightly, and he studied my features before pulling away, popping a handful of popcorn into his mouth. But for that moment, that split second we were so close to each other I could see the quiver in his lips, I thought it was going to be THE moment.

Stupid asshole me, it was nothing. Kyle is no more liking me than where we were at a month ago. I'm still hopeless and pathetic. He's still a God.

Funny thing though. Actually not funny. Shitty. Kyle has been acting different toward me. Great you say! No! It sucks hardcore, because it's not a good different. It's the kind of awkwardness you get when you are around someone that you don't like but have to be near them anyway. When that one person that annoys you to no end comes up to you and won't quit talking until you want to punch them so hard in the face they fly backwards and land in a pile of dogshit. Yeah, it's bad.

I didn't do anything to Kyle. I didn't do anything different; I don't understand why he's acting this way. I'm not making this up, I swear.

"Maybe you're just imagining things in your head again, Stan. You know how dramatic you can be," Kenny says to me while sipping his fast food Coke. I am getting angrier and angrier by the second because he won't for one second believe that it could be true.

"It's not in my fucking head this time!" I roar, loud enough for the people around the restaurant to send disgusted glares my way. Oops, I didn't see they had kids. I lower my voice and lean in to the table. "Ken, you watch. Watch how he acts toward me. You'll see. YOU'LL SEE!"

Kenny doesn't get it. Its agony for me for someone to ignore me. Sure, no one likes to be ignored. But when I am the ONLY one out of a crowded room that Kyle doesn't come up and hug, I start to get suspicious. And when I'm the ONLY one who he doesn't ask if I want to hang out at his house after class, I start to analyze. And when I'm the ONLY one that doesn't know about his party on the weekend that everyone who is cool will be there, I start to cry.

It's not just my imagination! It's not just my paranoia! He's avoiding me.

"Maybe he just wants to spend time with other people," Jimmy offers. He is sitting beside me, chomping down on a cold meat sub at the local deli. I called them in for moral support. This is starting to wear me down thin. I look at him weird.

"It's not like he's been spending all his time with me or anything."

Jimmy shrugs and looks the other way. "Maybe not."

"I just don't get it. Why would he all the sudden be talking to me? Inviting me to go places? We aren't as good of friends!" Kenny observes. I don't agree with him, but I don't disagree either. He always sells himself short of all of his friends. But I'll be the first to admit that I thought Kyle and I were well on our way to at least being super best friends again. If not more. I guess it was just wishful thinking.

"All too good to be true," I blurt out. Not really sure how it fits in the conversation. Kenny gives me a confused frown and then shakes his head.

"Whatever dude, I think you're paranoid. You've gotta lighten up."

"I AM NOT PARANOID! God! Would you _please_ stop writing off my feelings like that?" I yell once again. I make sure to keep my cool in front of the kids though.

Jimmy looks up from sipping his shake. "No, Stan, you are not paranoid." That is the first thing either of them have told me that wasn't positive bullshit.

Kenny and I exchange glances before focusing in on him. "Huh?" I ask, eager to learn more of what he is obviously hiding.

Jimmy looks at us both with hesitance. "Um…I just said that it might not be entirely in your mind like you think."

"What the fuck are you talking about, Jimmy? You're going to give Stan a hernia!" Kenny begins, anger rising in his voice. It's cute how overprotective he is of me.

I put my hand in front of Kenny's face, signaling him to shut up. I was on the edge of my seat, wanting to hear what Jimmy had to say. "Why do you say this?"

Jimmy takes a deep breath and gives it to me straight. He looks deep into my naïve eyes. "Look. Stan. Kyle thinks you are still cool, but he is tired of always having to pry you apart from Kenny." He turns to Kenny. "And Kenny, he wants to spend time with you alone because whenever you guys hang out, you always bring Stan."

I sink back in the booth. Not all bad information, but not much good that I can take away from that. It means he's sick of me. He's fucking sick of me.

"That's ridiculous," Kenny says, throwing his hands up and gesturing that it's no big deal. "Kyle wants to hang out with Stan. They are good friends."

Jimmy appears timid, but his voice rises at Kenny's remark. "I know how Kyle is feeling! I wish it was possible to tear you two apart sometimes as well." His voice is very high and shrill. As if he's wanted to tell us this for a while. I look at him to continue. Kenny just stares in disbelief. I was always wondering when our friends were going to say that. I mean, it usually was Kenny and Stan. Guess it was bound to happen sometime.

"It is hard for us, the people who are friends with both of you, to feel included sometimes! You get into these inside jokes and get lost inside talking about them and I lose what you are talking about, feel out of place, and wish I never came over to begin with! What Kyle has told me is that he wants to spend time with both of you individually. And that would be nice for me too!" Jimmy pauses, as if he stopped breathing, and then settles back into his chair, with a little less weight on his shoulders.

I am impressed. It takes guts to stand up to two people like that. Not that Ken and I are badasses or anything. But I totally see where he is coming from, and I feel like applauding him.

Still, none of this makes sense to me. So Kyle wants to spend time with Kenny more. Okay. Does he like Kenny? Oh God, he likes Kenny! He doesn't want me anymore. I'm yesterday's news. I'm a nobody. Just a faint memory. I start conjuring all of these scenarios up in my mind. Like last week. I knew something was up when Kyle called Kenny and invited him over. Kenny didn't tell him that I was with him—he just told me to come along. When I showed up, it was like I was a disease. Kyle didn't once look at me. He didn't acknowledge me. He talked as if I wasn't even there. It was horrible. I confronted Kenny about it later, and he saw nothing wrong. Damn boy's not perceptive enough. Don't blame it on my paranoia, I'm not paranoid.

I just don't know what to do about Kyle. He's so…unbelievable. I can't bear to think of my life without him as even a friend.

Speak of the devil, I freeze in shock as he pushes open the glass entry door decorated with bells that jingle. Everything in the world has to make a grand appearance for that guy. I swallow hard as he spots our table and makes his way past the hordes of customers at the front of the house. My heart sinks with every step closer.

"Hey guys! What's up?" he asks everyone but me, as he has made eye contact with Kenny and Jimmy immediately. I must be invisible.

"Nothing much, dude. Stan felt like getting something to eat so here we are. What're you doin' here?" Kenny asks him, noticing my obvious shift in position of comfort. Kenny, if you can read my thoughts, you will pay attention to how bad this getting!

"Word. I'm off to do some Christmas shopping for my folks and Ike, but I needed to grab some food first."

"Sounds delightful," Jimmy chimes in. "Know what you are going to get?"

Kyle shakes his head. For one split second he sends his gaze my way, but when I return it, he moves on to Kenny. He doesn't smile at me. He doesn't make any sort of friendly gesture. I am a bug. I must be squashed. "Not sure yet. If you guys have nothing to do, you should come over to my house later. Should be a good time."

Kenny looks at me. Awaiting my response? I don't know. I stare back at him blankly. He _knows_. Just because Kyle said "you guys" doesn't mean shit. I don't think he's vicious enough to say "Hey Jimmy and Kenny but not Stan…"

Jimmy's ears perk up. "Count me in!"

"Yeah, we…er…I…will probably make it over there sometime later, dude," Kenny adds. Okay, so he had to single me out. Sometimes Kenny is too stupid, and I want to pound him for it.

"Awesome!" Kyle replies. He nods his head in approval. No "Stan you should come too" or even a simple look in my direction to await my response. He just looks at Kenny for an extra long time. Then he lets out a smile that he used to send to me. I guarantee Kenny isn't warm all over when receiving it either. Bastard.

Kenny eyes me nervously. BINGO Ken. I think he's finally seen how's it gonna be around us two now! Which is why I'm going to lay low, and probably not even show up to Kyle's tonight. As much as that sucks.

But my extreme need for acceptance and like takes me in another direction. "I'll probably stop by too." Too much, too late.

But Kyle's ears don't perk up. He looks at me, yes. But there is no twinkle in his emerald eyes. There is no bright smile emitted from his face. There is no cheer in his voice. Merely a routine, "word."

"Well, guys, I've got to get back to shopping," he announces. I don't think he had any intentions of inviting me if I had not been sitting there. "Hey Kenny, bring that guitar of yours and we'll rock out. Jimmy, you can keep the beat for us!"

At this, my heart explodes. For the past month, Kenny and Kyle would play the guitars and rock out, while I would keep the beat on some old bongos he bought at a thrift store. He had told me I was good at keeping them in time. He even let me sing sometimes. He told me that my voice was great. Was none of that true? What the hell happened? What did I do wrong?

"Bye guys!" he tells the two boys sitting with me, and he pats Kenny on the back. I swear if he touches him one more time I am going to scream. Why the FUCK won't he go near me! He waves goodbye in my general direction, and I mumble a string of curse words as he moves through the long lunch line. Kenny hears me mumbling, but he can't tell what I'm saying. Good thing too, I'm mad at him.

Why you ask? Because that fucker doesn't even care about Kyle like I do! He doesn't want anything but friendship with him! He doesn't act like a tongue-tied babbling idiot around him! He doesn't make an ass out of himself trying to steal Kyle's glances away! He doesn't have to fucking try because he's not falling for the jerk! GOD DAMMIT!

"Whoa," Kenny says finally when Kyle is out of view. He bought his food and left. Must have not wanted to taint himself with Stan germs by sitting near me. Not that I blame him. I feel like a low form of parasite right now. "I see what you mean, dude. That was harsh!" Leave it to Kenny to pour salt in the wound. Damn him. Damn them all. I don't want to be here anymore. Not here, in this stupid deli. Not in South Park. Not in Colorado. Maybe if I hadn't been such a loser in my past life, I could have been reincarnated as a sex God with people like Kyle falling all over me. Maybe I could have been Kyle's perfect physical match. Not that I believe in reincarnation. Just a theory…

Jimmy slinks behind his food. I think he has more to say, but there won't be anymore speaking on his end. He has this "I told you so" look in his eye. But that doesn't make an ounce of sense. If Kyle is so upset that he can't hang out with just Kenny, he doesn't have to be shitty to me when I'm around! I think what Jimmy told me is a big lie. I've never called Jimmy Vulmer a liar before, but I'm going that extra mile. Maybe its one of those lies to spare my feelings. Whatever. A lie is a lie is a lie. I'm a big boy and I can handle myself.

TELL ME THE FUCKING TRUTH!

Everyone is a suspect. They all know something I don't.

I walk home, alone, dejected. Kenny felt sorry for me, but he can't help me. Not when he has to get ready for Kyle's party. I don't want to go. I don't think I should. I don't think anyone wants me there. I'm Stan Marsh, disgraceful. Loner. Loser.

Just when I think I can't feel any sorrier for myself, I run across a skipping Wendy. She immediately stops skipping, staring at me with a death stare. Why? Why does everyone have it out for me?

"Why hello Mr.-I-don't-talk-to-Wendy anymore," she says bitterly. "How is your life since I don't get to be involved in it anymore?"

Not the time to play make me feel guilty, Wendy. Not in the mood. "You are involved, woman. Don't talk to me about not getting talked to."

"Awww…poor Stanny. He wooks sad," she says, trying her best to cheer me up. God help me, this might actually work. Her cutesy antics are so lame they are comforting. "Well, if you were still my friend, I'd tell you about how some people are coming over tonight."

I shrug and decide to play along. "If I was still your friend, I might consider going."

This throws her through a semi-loop. "Well, if you were still my friend, I'd say you should be there."

I smile. Wendy _is_ cute. Just not my type. She's not redheaded, Jewish, or male. Since apparently I'm a fag now, according to Eric Cartman, who found out and won't let me live it down. But Kyle doesn't talk to Cartman. Kyle actually despises Cartman. So I'm not too concerned in his fat mouth spreading not-so-rumored rumors.

"If I'm still your friend, then I will accept your invitation," I answer to her. She smiles, sealing her invitation.

"See you later!" she calls, already halfway down to the next house. Wendy likes to skip a lot.

I look up to the sky. Maybe I can turn this into a better day. After all, Wendy and I always have a good time, regardless of how in love she may be with me. I'm not saying she is, but I think she likes me a lot. I wish I could feel the same. Life would be so much easier.

A few hours pass, and I find myself staring at my reflection in the mirror. "You need this, Stan," he tells me. "Go on. Have a good time!"

That's what I intend to do.

It's about 9:00 when I pull into Wendy's driveway. There aren't too many cars there, so I figure Wendy's 'some' people will consist of her three best friends and maybe a few randoms. She always tells me about these big blowouts she is going to have, but when I attend, there are only four or five people. Oh well. Four or five is still awesome times compared to my none. And so to Wendy's I go.

But tonight is different. Tonight, the people at Wendy's party aren't the typical friends. There is actually a decent amount of people at this one. She has included others. DJ, for example. The cute chic from my math class. And she looks super cute tonight. Sure, I might be on my way to being drunk, but I can see her staring at me like I'm the only one in the room. I guess I look good tonight. I don't look bad. Wonder what is going through that pretty little head of hers.

Cause I know what I'm thinking.

Wendy has called everyone around a coffee table and we're playing asshole. A drinking game that I'm not too fond of, cause Wendy knows how to manipulate the system so that she will remain president permanently. President is ultimate power. Still, its fun to play. I'm pretty drunk already. The colors in the living room are becoming increasingly vivid, and I can no longer see without this deep haze clouding my vision. I feel fine though. I'm not thinking about Kyle. At least, not that much.

"My next rule," Wendy states (as part of her power as president). "Stan, you have to take a drink of beer every time you say the word drink, drank, or drunk."

My eyes widen in accusation. "Dude, why you singling me out like that? You want me to get drunk?"

Something about the tint in her eyes makes me believe that is exactly her objective. DJ lights up at this idea. "Yeah! Make him drink twice!"

Drinks come and go. Cans of beer are drank and thrown away. I lose track of what I have been drinking, and how much I have drank. If that stupid rule applied to that sentence, I would have to drink four more fucking gulps. Now five. It's a conspiracy! Doesn't help that I'm one of three guys there. I think girls like to pick on us because they know they can't handle as much as we can. Ooooh, that statement's gonna get me in trouble, just watch.

My mind drifts to Kyle. I wonder what's going on at his house right now. I bet that he and Kenny were playing their guitars together, when suddenly they realized they couldn't handle it anymore, kicking everyone out on the streets and making love on the couch that Kyle and I shared so many memorable talks on. I know its ridiculous, but you can't hurt me for thinking it. Deep down I know Kenny doesn't swing that way, but Kyle is a very persuasive guy. He's amazing. Kenny's said so himself. I'm just waiting for them to hook up. If they do, I'm going to die.

I scold myself for thinking about Kyle. I'm at Wendy's. Not Kyle's. Kyle is not on my mind right now. Kyle is far away. Kyle shouldn't be mentioned anymore. Kyle doesn't want me to be around him.

Kyle's doesn't want my friendship anymore.

"Stan, you gonna drink that beer or just stare into it all night?" Wendy jokes, bringing my thoughts back into reality. Thank you, Wendy. She smiles at me, as if accepting my gratitude.

"I'm all out of drinks," DJ announces. With that, she bounces off of the couch, making the long trip from the living room through the hall into the kitchen. Wendy's house is pretty big, actually. Her parents could be home and they wouldn't even know that they have kids downstairs. Good thing they're not though.

I slam back the entire contents of my cup, not wanting another bitching about me not drinking fast enough. I very slowly peel myself off of the couch and navigate my way into the kitchen as well. I discover in the process of the move that I cannot feel my entire lower portion of my body. At least, not in a physical sense. I know it's still there.

"You doin' okay?" DJ asks, half concerned as I stumble into the kitchen. Under the florescent lights, her hair looks almost silver. She's pretty, but not in the conventional sense. Her teeth are crooked and she has a baby face. Which would be cute except that she hides it with a gallon of makeup. She has big dough eyes though. I'm a sucker for eyes. Kyle's eyes are mesmerizing. Dammit! STOP THINKING ABOUT KYLE!

"I'm fine," I tell her, though not really. I'm ready to fall over. I don't drink this much, and I know I'm going to be paying for it tomorrow. Shit, I'm stupid. Is she touching my arm? Is she pulling herself closer to me? Whoa, I guess not _all_ of my lower body is numb.

"DJ, I gotta get more beer…" I plead, but I quickly succumb to her intense stare. Yep. I TOLD Kenny. She and I are going to break down and make out in a closet. Didn't think it would actually happen, but everything is possible.

"You like me, don't you, Stan," she says, barely above a whisper. She's pretty forward. A little more tact would be appreciated, but at this point, I don't give a shit.

No. I like Kyle. "Maybe," I say playfully. She moves even closer to me. "Why. You like me?"

"Maybe."

I look at her blankly. This is so immature. Just kiss me already! "Okay then," I say, losing interest.

"Do you want to kiss me?" she asks, another step forward.

I blink my eyes a thousand times to readjust how close she is to my face. I really don't feel like playing, but the hell with it. "Do _you_ want to kiss _me_?"

She smiles softly. I'm going to ignore her teeth for now. I know I may have imperfections, but bad teeth bug me.

Call me crazy. I'm lonely. I waste no time in pulling her close to me, her red lips sinking into mine. They are dry and taste of strawberries. She's not a bad kisser. Not at all. She pulls my face closer into hers with her hands, and we fall against the counter that wasn't too far behind her. Her hands immediately move from my face down to my ass, where she clamps on tightly. A slight moan escapes her lips.

We move from one end of the kitchen to the other, near the bathroom. There is a small, dark hallway, and she pushes me up against the wall. I open my eyes long enough to look around the room. She is pushing me into the bathroom. I can't help but start to laugh. I mean, how romantic is making out in the bathroom anyway? Ha ha.

"What?" she asks, in between pants. I've got her pretty hot and heavy already, just by exploring her back with my hands. I haven't even made it up front yet, though I'm curious. She has got a nice body from what I can tell, and I wouldn't mind seeing, or feeling, any of it. I reluctantly accept her aggressions toward the bathroom.

Once inside, her kisses become sloppy as she tries hard to unbutton my shirt. No fucking way am I getting it on the bathroom. Aaaah, but she just pulled me so close she can feel my growing erection on her leg. She gently squeezes my leg with hers, driving me crazy. She successfully pulls off my shirt, laying it on a pile of her already removed zip up shirt on the floor. I push her into the sink, where she yelps with pain but doesn't pull back. Her kisses are needy and quick. She attempts to move her mouth to my ear where she unsuccessfully blows into it and annoyingly wets it. Kyle does it so much better in my dreams. Fuck, I'm so disappointed because I'll never know what kissing him is like.

I push my hands up inside her shirt, reaching the bottom of her under wire bra. I adjust my hands and lift it, moving my hands up to her breasts. She pushes me until I fall down on the toilet, with her straddling me. I can see up her skirt, and I feel the smoothness of her chest. She is hot. I readjust my eyes to see a figure moving about in the kitchen. Yep, definitely left the door wide open.

And Wendy is glaring back at me.

"Oh my GOD!" she yells, overbearingly loud. "They are NOT fucking in MY bathroom!" she announces to the world of acquaintances in the other room. I know she is mad when she doesn't even refer to me as Stan, but as a part of 'they.'

Shit. Fuck. Damn, I suck at life. I push DJ off of me, grab my shirt off the floor and head for the living room, where Wendy won't even look at me. Perfect. Just fucking perfect. Now I have two friends hating me.

Everyone else looks up to me in disbelief. I glare at all of them. "WHAT!" I scream. "There is a fucking reason I don't drink this much!" I try to rationalize. But I know it's my fault, and I won't blame it on the alcohol. Somehow, its effect left me the minute I saw Wendy. I am as sober as an AA member. Painfully sober.

"Wendy, listen to me…" I plead. Not sure why I owe her an explanation, but I feel guilty. Maybe cause its in her house? I dunno.

"Whatever Stan," she says, surprisingly calm. "I always do this. I ALWAYS fall for the wrong guys." She laughs to herself, but it's really more _at_ herself, nervously. "You think I'll ever learn? Not anytime soon, I guess."

"Wendy, shit, let me explain."

She looks at me with tear coated eyes. "Explain what? You were making out with DJ in my bathroom. Don't know how much more explanation that needs!"

She has a point. "Okay," I say, reconsidering. "I don't know why I did it. Honestly, I'm so fucking wasted right now, and I'm not using it as an excuse, but I told you that when I get super drunk, I get…horny…and well I don't know it just sort of happened. Wendy your friendship means so much to me and I don't want to hurt you or hurt us because of this. I was stupid, I'm so sorry." Apologies come easier the more times you fuck up in life. I'm one hell of an apologizer.

Wendy sighs. "Its okay, Stan. Really. Just go home, you'll feel better."

I don't believe her. "Wendy, please don't hate me."

"Did you not just hear me? I said its okay! Just leave me alone right now, okay? I'll be fine in the morning."

I, too, sigh. DJ walks out of the kitchen, a little worse for the wear, not even attempting to cover up the fact that we just messed around. Shit, I'm such a dumbass. No wonder Kyle doesn't like me anymore.

I leave for home, for the second time today, dejected. Could my life possibly get any worse? I mean, really. I may be overdramatic, but when you hurt your friends and your friends don't want to talk to you, what do you have left? I don't deserve to have friends.

I decide to call Kenny. Much to my dismay, Jimmy answers the phone. I really don't want to talk to anyone but Ken, but I accept his very drunk, very high, greeting.

"Hey there, Stanley Marsh. What is going on with you?"

"Nothing good. I'm in a shitty ass mood today, and I doubt you want to talk to me."

I hear a roar of laughter on the other end. I can hear Kyle in the background, and it makes me ball my fists with jealous rage. Fuck them, I want out of here. Please let me just disappear!

"Aw, Stan. Turn that frown upside down!" Jimmy tries, but he is only pissing me off more.

"Watch it," I warn him.

"Whoa-a-ho! Touchy man!"

Grrrrr….

"Okay, Stan, I apologize. I am not trying to push your buttons. But hey, there is something you need to know," Jimmy tells me in complete seriousness.

I don't say anything, not wanting to waste another minute on this lame phone call.

"I need to leave this room, hang on."

Grrrrrrrrrrrrrr…

"Okay, I'm alone now. Stan, there is something you should know," he repeats himself. I grow more impatient with every word out of his mouth.

"You already said that," I say through gritted teeth.

"Okay. Well, Stan. Um, I'm not quite sure how to tell you this but…"

"He knows."

Silence.

"Stan? You still there?" Its quite possible he thought I hung up. I mean, I'm not breathing. There is no sound around me. I'm not saying anything. I'm not moving.

"What?" I ask in a lower voice than normal, trying my best to clarify what I just heard and erase the fact I thought he just told me that he knows.

"Kyle. He knows that you like him." Jimmy's voice is loud and clear.

Shit. Oh fuck, that's what I thought he said. Oh fuck oh fuck! Well, that explains the odd behavior. The avoiding. The rudeness. Everything.

"Stan?" Jimmy asks again. Not sure why he found it necessary to tell me this on this very night, when I thought things couldn't get any worse. Now this is officially the worst night ever in the history of my life. No questions asked.

"I'm here," I say, barely able to keep a grasp on reality. My feet have forgotten how to work.

"Alright, well, I just thought you should know," Jimmy says once more, justifying his total blow to my esteem. "Have a good night!"

_Click_.

Perfect. Just fucking perfect.


	7. Not The One

I'M DONE WITH FINALS! Hor-ray! Let me celebrate with a chapter provided for all of you. A big thank you to my reviewers, my supporters, and my readers! A special thank you to my best friend, for helping me out with this one. I appreciate you!

Chapter 7- **Not the One**

I've accepted the truth. Kyle will never want to be with me. Okay, so I haven't accepted it yet. But it IS the truth.

Kenny and Kyle hang out all the time now. Whenever I call Kenny, it seems like he's over at Kyle's. I don't get it. I don't want to be an ass, but shouldn't Kenny care a little about how this makes me feel? No? I mean, I know that Kyle and Kenny are friends. I know that Kenny thinks Kyle is a cool guy, and he doesn't want to stop hanging out with him just because he and I had a fall-out.

All right, you've made your point. So what is Stan Marsh to do? I sit around and wait for Ken to get done with his capers at the Broflovski's. That is where he is right now. I know I haven't updated you very well. It's been a little over a week now that I found out that Kyle knows. He actually knows how I feel!

Has his attitude changed about me? He really hasn't talked to me one on one. I know that ignoring me seems like the best option for him, but that is destroying our friendship! And dammit, all I am starting to care about now is getting our friendship back!

I can't do this anymore. There was two times this past week that I thought I was going to lose it and confess all of my feelings to him on the spot! The first time was at Kyle's house. My last desperate attempt to win his friendship back. He had invited everyone around him to come over. Sort of a Christmas party type thing. Anyway, I figured he would never personally extend the invite to me, and seeing that everyone of my friends were going to go and it was a Friday night and God help me I was not going to spend another Friday night alone—I decided to go.

It was another opportunity for me to witness drunk Kyle. I have never wanted him more. He hung all over _everyone_…except…well you guessed it. I watched with envious eyes as he kept talking about how beautiful Kenny's eyes were, how sexy Emery's glasses were, how hot Jacob looked in this old army jacket he found in his basement. He hung a loose arm around Kenny, talking about they were going to have to start up a band with their "mad talent." And then it happened.

Bebe is always the subject of Kyle's flirtations when he is drunk. Don't ask me why. Yeah he talks about the others, but he doesn't play with their hair or hug them or randomly jump on any of their laps. I mean, if I didn't know better, Bebe and Kyle could have a thing going on on the side. But that's stupid. I know it isn't true. It didn't make it any easier for me to watch Kyle blatantly stick his tongue in her mouth and pretend to make out. I think…I think…I KNOW my expression mirrored that of some poor kid who just found his crushed run-over cat on the side of the road, the blood still fresh. Kenny saw it. He walked with me home trying a million different ways to comfort my fragile broken heart.

Kissing Bebe wasn't a big deal though. At the time, I thought I'd die. But the events of that night subsided, and I got over it. It was the NEXT Friday that really stabbed a steel plated machete into my chest. Kyle used the opportunity of a fun get together with a bunch of friends as a time to use his portable mistletoe. That boy…

At first it was Kenny. He leaned over, pecked him on the lips. Right smack on the lips.

Then came Jimmy. Everyone was drunk; otherwise I don't think they'd be willing to be that gay. But Jimmy acknowledged the mistletoe. Kyle kissed him quickly and undesirably. Jimmy turned and kissed some random drunk girl, and then he turned to me. He looked at me with this look in his eye that made me believe he wanted to kiss _me._ You see, Jimmy once confessed that when he first came back to South Park, he had a crush on me. He said I was nice, cute, and everybody liked me. I thought of this the second he leaned over the chair and announced to everyone that he wanted to kiss me because I have the best lips.

This no doubt made me blush. I mean, I was so flattered that Jimmy thought that about me. I didn't even know I had the power to attract guys. I underestimate my sex appeal. Ha.

Kyle heard this comment, and he spun around to directly face Jimmy. "Wait, what?" he screamed loudly above the music. "You think Stan has the best lips?" Kyle had been ignoring and avoiding me all night to the point I was almost in tears, I thought for a second he was saying that he wanted to kiss me to find out. I know I leaned over the chair that was supporting me so far. I leaned into Kyle, who was but a few feet away from me.

Jimmy looked up from his drink to a challenged Kyle. "Did you say that Stan has the best lips?" he repeated himself. I leaned in further. Hey, I was drunk too. Jimmy nodded and smiled at me. "We'll just see about that," Kyle said. But he didn't even turn his head to me. Instead, he pushed over the chair he was behind, grabbing the back of Jimmy's neck and pulling him into what looked to be a mind-blowing kiss. The force of his aggression pushed Jimmy back, but he eventually regained composure and returned the kiss.

I watched the two boys make out in front of my face, actually hearing the strings of my heart breaking and shattering into a million shards of emptiness. It was unbearable. I turned around, walked away, and left the party. Kenny caught up with me only after I had been walking for a good mile. I had no goal in mind of where to go. I just wanted to walk away. Away from it all…

Kyle knows I like him. He KNOWS, yet he still pulls shit like that in front of me. I think that alone tells me how he feels about me. I can't take this anymore. I know I've said that before, but Jimmy was the icing on the cake. I'm over it. I can't deal with my feelings, I can't like Kyle anymore. I don't want to like Kyle anymore.

So how come Kyle is the only person that I can think of right now?

I hear my cell phone in my back pocket, and I know its Kenny.

"Hey dude," I say, not needing to even look at my caller ID.

"Hey, you still up?" he asks. It is so sad. Kenny's always got this shit going on, and when he's finished up, he calls me, knowing full well I'll just be sitting in my room, playing my video games or watching TV. Man, I need a life.

"Of course," I reply to the fairly obvious question.

"K. Can I come over?" Kenny asks, and immediately my heart rate speeds up to normal again. Human contact…been…so…long…

"Sure!" I respond partially giddy. I haven't talked to Kenny since yesterday. That's a long time to go without him.

"Alright, I've gotta stop by Amber's for a bit, then I'll be over."

"Okay, should I expect you tomorrow then?" I joke, because I know Kenny's "for a bit" is at LEAST an hour. I sigh and resume watching TV, preparing myself for alone time yet again.

The sound he makes on the other end without a doubt proves he is sticking his tongue out at me. "I'll be over in 10 minutes." He hangs up.

"We'll see about that, Ken," I say to myself.

Amazingly. No. Outright miraculously, Kenny shows up thirty minutes later. I'm in shock.

"So what you been up to tonight?" he resumes conversation where we left off. I growl, letting him know that isn't the best question to ask me, cause I got nothing.

He chuckles at me. "You're fine, Stan. A lot of people sit at home sometimes. It doesn't make you a loser." Kenny always knows what I'm thinking, even without me hinting at feeling that way at all. It's incredible.

"Was _Kyle's_ fun?" I say, immediately regretting saying it. I don't want to hear about him. I really don't.

Kenny makes a face that I can't decode. "Dude, I wasn't at Kyle's. But we know who is on YOUR mind," he says with a grin. Good 'ole Ken. Always up for lightening the mood. And I welcome that. Especially tonight. I don't want to turn into a Goth again, where I hate life and go on and on about pain. I'm not like that. I'm just pretty depressed right now.

But his comment intrigues me. I thought he was at Kyle's. "I thought you went to Kyle's," I say, repeating my own thoughts.

"I was going to, but then Mandy called, and I went over there instead."

Enough said. Kenny doesn't pass up a quality session with the ladies. I wear a look of approval and understanding.

"No, I don't know about this anymore," he says, inviting himself to sit on my bed. I scoot over for him. He plops down in one giant THUD, looking dissatisfied.

I give him my undivided attention. "What do you mean? I thought you liked this girl. Not just for a good fuck, either." Yeah, Kenny fucked her. He said he wasn't going to. But then he did. Again and again and again…

He shrugs his shoulders. "I thought I did too."

This man puzzles me. Mandy was turning into more than just a fuck buddy. I think Kenny was really starting to dig her. "Why the change of heart?" I ask, intrigued. He turns to me, his big blue eyes filled with…I don't even know!

"I'm not sure. But she and I were talking tonight, about you."

Whoa. Me?

"Well, about you and me. And how we're always together."

I nod for him to continue.

"And she says it bugs her. Because she's a super cool chic and all, this made me a little angry." He turns his whole body to face me now. "Don't get me wrong, she likes you. She thinks you're pretty cool. But, I don't know. She's jealous, I think."

"Jealous?" Of what?

Kenny smiles, and for the first time, it sends chills down my back. He's never smiled at me that way before. "Of our relationship," he says, with a hint of sweetness and hope hidden in his voice. Hope? For what?

He goes on, looking back down to the floor for answers. "I don't know, maybe its cause she's never had someone as close to her as we are, you know?" He looks back at me. "I felt bad for her, but I started thinking about the whole thing. And the weird thing is, I realized I don't even want to be around her that much." Is he leaning into me?

"I'd honestly rather spend my time with you."

WHOA, big newsflash to Stan! Is Kenny hitting on me? Is he telling me something? Dude, how could have I not seen this before? I look back into his eyes. He's waiting for me to say something. To do something.

I don't even think. I lean in, my face closer to his than it has ever been before. I don't even hesitate when I feel his soft lips upon mine. I push my face against his, parting my mouth slightly.

As I lift my right hand to his cheek, I realize I don't feel his breath. His lips aren't moving with mine. He's cold and stiff.

I open my eyes, peering into big frightened blue eyes. Open wide. I pull back and notice that his body is frozen. His mouth is parted as if to say something, and he isn't blinking. His eyes lose focus of me, and though still big, they don't appear to be focused on anything. Yet they are still staring.

Oh no…

"Uh…" I begin. Great. GREAT. I totally read that situation wrong. Kenny, my only friend left in the world is going to hate me now. I fucked it up. My God, I'm an idiot!

"I'm sorry, Ken. I'm sorry. I thought you were trying to tell me something and I…I don't know. Shit, this is fucking embarrassing. I'm so sorry!" I say over and over, doing my best to distance myself from him. He has yet to move a muscle or blink.

"I don't know what I was thinking. I guess I'm just so upset about the Kyle thing and I'm lonely and I guess I just thought…" I try. But my pathetic attempts are failing. If Kenny doesn't function soon, I'm going to have to give him CPR cause he's going to pass out from not breathing. And for him to wake up to me giving him mouth-to-mouth…I don't think that would be a good idea.

"Wow," he says. "I did NOT see that coming."

I laugh nervously. "Me neither."

"Alright. Well. Stan. I'm going to go," he stutters, so obviously awkward and unsure.

"Okay," I respond. I know he can't stay after that. No matter how badly I want him to.

"Have a goodnight," he wishes, and he backpedals out of the room. Almost as if watching me to make sure I don't run over and pounce on him.

"You too," I reply, really fucking nervous about what is going to happen between him and me. I am praying Kenny is just as cool about this as he has been with everything. Everything I have ever told him.

As soon as he's gone, I fall back into my pillows, letting out a huge groan. I have the WORST ideas ever! I am never NEVER going to be spontaneous and gutsy like that again. Never. I bring my hands to my head, pushing on the sides. "OH MY GOD!" I cry out into the air. "I'm such a fucking retard!" No idea why I did that. No idea. I don't like Kenny like that. He's hot, yes. But he's Kenny. KENNY!

I just kissed my best friend.

---

Pick up, Ken. Pick up! His phone is off. Its Monday morning, and I'm not sure if he's picking me up today. We haven't talked since that horrible, HORRIBLE night in my bedroom. Three nights ago. This has been the longest time I have ever gone without talking to him. We usually hang out on Fridays, Saturdays, Sundays, Mondays, Tuesdays, well, all week. And we talk even more than that. It was interesting trying to find something to do on the weekend without him. I called up Jimmy one night, and we hung out. The next night I played a bunch of board games with my grandpa. On a Saturday night.

"Hello?" I hear after the billionth ring.

"Kenny! It's me!" I gush, grateful that he even picked up.

"Hi." His reply is short and unfriendly. Merely a routine greeting.

"Hey. I was just wondering if you were gonna pick me up for school."

"Uh…hang on," he tells me. I hear a bunch of garbled words, probably from him covering up the receiver with his hand.

I wait impatiently. Who is he asking? Why does he have to ask if it's okay?

"Hey, Stan?" he says, I guess seeing if I'm still there. "I think I'm riding with Jimmy today. My car broke down."

"Oh…" Is this a lie? "Alright. Well I can pick you up then, it's really no big deal."

"Oh. Well, he's already here. So we're gonna go. See you at school!"

_Click_. What! Wow, he totally hung up on me. What if my car was broken too? Quite possible, the piece of shit.

"Hey, mom, I'm driving to school today!" I announce when heading out the door.

She pauses from cutting oranges to look to me. Confused, she yells, "I thought it was Kenny's turn today." Damn, she really stays on top of it.

I shrug my shoulders, uncomfortably shifting my weight. "Yeah well, we kind of had a…fight." Yeah fight. Eighteen-year-old males like to fight. We're animals. Fighting is manly. Sounds a hell of a lot better than the truth.

She frowns. "You two are always on good terms. What happened?"

Well, mom. If you really must know, he came to me to talk about this girl he was sleeping with but didn't like anymore, and I mistook his words and actions as hitting on me, and I kissed him and now things are really awkward. Hmmm…. better go with "Girl" instead.

"Stanley Marsh, don't you be putting girls in front of your friends. A crush goes away, but friends are forever. You remember that."

"Will do, mom," I say, eager to get out of the house and away from this less-than-comfortable conversation. If only I could tell her. I don't know if she would understand, but I know she would support me no matter what. I always thought that if I _did_ end up dating Kyle, she would be the type of mom to invite him in for family fun night and bake us chocolate chip cookies and ask about our relationship. Maybe I could be wrong. Guess I'll never know. I'm not the one he wants.

I pull into the school parking lot in just the knick of time to drop my access books off at my locker before heading to my first period class. Shit! Next period is study hall with Kenny. Well, this is going to be swell. Last Friday he excused himself to help out with something for Mr. James. Then in Advanced Lit. he barely said anything to me. But now a whole weekend has passed—would things be any different? From the sounds of that phone call, doesn't sound like it.

The announcements came on the first few minutes of first period. I stopped spinning my pencil on the desk when I heard the school was selling their annual Christmas flowers. Now, I'm not usually this lame, but maybe if I got Kenny one of the friendship color flowers he would laugh it off and things would be cool again. I excuse myself from class to go down and sign up for them to deliver one yellow rose to him. On the card, I write:

_Sorry for the misunderstanding. You're still a rose to me._ Then I erased it. How gay can I be? Wow.

In place of that, I write _Sorry about the other night. Can we still be friends?_ with a winking smiley face. Kenny will get my humor. I sign my name and hand over the pen to the sophomore girls in charge. The girl I give my card to blushes slightly when our hands touch. I smile warmly at her. She's cute, and I like that she is too intimidated to talk to me. Her eyes avert my gaze, and she files my card along the name Marsh, Stan. I walk away, my spirits lifted.

Second period comes and goes. Kenny doesn't ignore me, but he doesn't talk to me either. He actually works on homework straight through. I chalk it up to the fact that he probably does have a lot of homework. No doubt endless nights of sexual pleasure can be time consuming. My best guess is that he will continue the Mandy charade for a while. Even if it is only to reaffirm his masculinity.

I'm excited for this Friday when they will hand out the flowers. Friday is the last day before Christmas break. My mind drifts to Kyle. What does he do on the holiday break? Hanukah is something I've never experienced, and I'm curious how eight days of presents and partying can work without going broke and being exhausted.

I don't have time to think. The bells rings, and I head off to my next class.

Spanish with Kyle is dreadful. He keeps looking my direction without looking at me. Every time I see his eyes wander to me, he turns away with a disgusted look on his face. What the hell? Did Kenny tell him what happened?

KENNY MUST HAVE TOLD HIM WHAT HAPPENED. Shit.

Dude, that is not cool. He shouldn't have sold me out like that.

I watch Mr. Jones for the remainder of the period, mesmerized that he can talk without wiping away the mouth gunk that has accumulated so badly it causes his lips to stick together.

Advanced Literature is even worse. Kenny asks for another partner when paired up with me for a small group activity. He says he's sick of always working with the same person, which satisfies Mr. James. But I know the real reason…and I'm starting to get pissed.

I decide to write him a note in class, complete with illustrations. Last time I attempted this, I was sent to detention. But this has purpose. It will help mend my friendship.

Dear Kenny,

I know you're avoiding me, and for probably good reason too, but don't you think its better to just forget about this and go on with our lives? I hope that Mandy is cooler now. I'm really sorry about interrupting your story with my…um…spontaneous stupidity. But dude, life without you has just been miserable. Please don't ignore me.

Yours truly,

Stan

I folded it up neatly, placing it in his book when he wasn't looking. I have to get my best friend back.

Then it hit me. Literally. I was walking down the hall to my next class and I ran into an open locker. But somehow that made me think. All of this worrying about Kenny has made me almost completely forget about Kyle! Maybe, in some fucked up way, this whole experience was to help me get over my true crush. This is relatively exciting news, and though I have a huge bump on my forehead, my headache is starting to go away.

I write Kenny another note, thanking him for indirectly helping me through it all. Even when he doesn't help, he's still helping. That kid's amazing.

The last period of the day is Geometry and I walk into the room, taking a seat next to DJ. She is wearing a low-cut tank top today. I don't know what the hell she is thinking. It is freezing outside, and not too much warmer in here. But she lays her tie-up sweater on the back of her chair and leans into me, arms folded to increase her cleavage. She looks pretty good today, I decide.

"Hey cutie," she flirts, nudging me with her shoulder. I smile back at her, eyes trying to not focus on her exposed chest. It's times like this when I thank the Lord for allowing me to be attracted to women. She leans over even further and plays with a piece of my hair that is probably sticking up or something.

I look down to complete my homework at the very last minute, but when I look back up, Kyle is standing at the front of the classroom. I blink several times, unsure of whether or not I am imagining him there.

Nope. He's there. Upon closer investigation, I see he is holding a clipboard and standing impatiently for my teacher to sign something. Who knows. He looks over in my general direction, and I literally stop breathing. DJ's hands are lost in my hair. She went to town after I didn't push her away the first time. I look over at her, who is looking at Kyle and smiling, and Kyle, for the first time looks at me. He looks at how close I am to DJ. He says my arm draped around the back of her chair. And his eyes…correct me if I'm wrong…but they show anger!

Okay, so what does that mean? His eyes are narrowed into slivers, and he is giving me the most disapproving look without actually giving it to me. He's gotten really good at doing that.

"Thank you, Mr. Broflovski," my teacher says, snapping Kyle out of his evil glare trance. He looks to my teacher, smiles politely and nods. He leaves the room, stealing a glance at me once more.

What was all that about?

I have no idea what happened. But Kyle just looked at me more in those last few minutes than he has in two weeks. Weird.

"Are you two fighting?" DJ asks, air headedly. She's not interested in Kyle and I's relationship, or lack thereof. She just wants down my pants. And you know, some how I feel like I want the same. I ask her to go out with me after school today. She squeals excitedly and jumps up and down in her seat. I find this a perfect opportunity to write Kenny another note, telling him I'm back to the female persuasion. He doesn't need to worry. I sign it the same as the previous two, and as I walk out of the classroom with DJ not far behind, I march up to Kenny's locker and slip it through the little vent slits.

"What are you doing?" DJ skips up next to me. I reply with an inaudible mutter and she and I walk out of the school, her arm linked in mine. Nobody sees us. This is perfect. Wendy doesn't see us. That's even better.

You know, Wendy is actually true to her word. She's been cool to me since that night. I think when I called her up the next to day to apologize some more, she thought I was making too big of a deal about it. But I can't be too sure. So I apologized like hell until she was laughing at how ridiculous I am.

Okay. The next thing I did, you're not going to be happy about. Please don't judge me. I'm lonely. I'm horny. And I'm pent up.

DJ was absolutely horrible at everything she did. When she went down on me, I thought I was going to fall asleep. I can tell she's done this a lot. She had a routine. It was boring, it was useless. Then, about a half hour of her sucking away, she woke me up with an agonizing scrape of the teeth. I think I'm going to have bite marks on my penis for the next few weeks. It's not a fucking hot dog! You DON'T bite down.

Still, she pleased me. After it was over, I pulled her up to my level and sucked her mouth dry of any saliva left. We were naked under my covers, and another few inches, we could have been fucking. I didn't have a condom though, and who knows what kinds of diseases this girl has. She's not exactly the purest of princesses. She got me pretty hot and bothered again just by dry humping my leg. She went down on me again, and I let her. She was much gentler this time.

All and all we spent a good three hours in my bedroom. I don't think I've ever been so physically exhausted. I'm a total asshole. I didn't even drive her home. She said it was no big deal. I was too tired to move.

I lay in my bed, staring up at the patterns on the ceiling. I thought she would release all of this tension, satisfying my craving. After she left, I realized I have never wanted Kyle more than I did at that very moment. I guarantee Kyle is a God in bed. I can just tell. And yes, I've thought about that. And it doesn't freak me out.

I want Kyle. So bad it hurts. I roll over, closing my eyes and once again imagining he is right beside me. Pretending it was he who made me this tired.

Pretending he feels the same way. When I open my eyes, I realize that's all it will ever be. Pretend.

My bed grows ten times in size. I look over to the cold, empty side, letting out a frustrated sigh.

In the past week, I have managed to alienate my best friend, disgust my crush, and whore around with probably one of the biggest whores in school. What lies next you ask? My thoughts drift into an analytical state. A few minutes later, I hear my phone ring.

I look at the Caller ID, surprised and excited. "Hi!" I answer.

"Hi Stan. We need to talk."


	8. Waiting Is The Hardest Part

Its nearing Christmas. Happy Holidays, everyone! Here is a present from me to you. An update super fast. For all of my super fans out there. I couldn't leave you hanging like that : ) Thank you so much for reading and reviewing! You make me so happy!

Chapter 8- **Waiting Is The Hardest Part**

"Yes we do," I agree. I can hear Kenny's heavy breathing on the other end.

"Look. I'm not sure right now. About us," he speaks with such dramatic emotion, you'd think someone died.

"I figured that much. What can I do to make things better?"

A pause on the other end. One of those really drawn out silences that make the situation even more uncomfortable. "Um…I don't think you should do anything. Just give me some time."

I sigh. "I can do that." I will agree to this, because I know that he is being truthful. Like I said before, Kenny will just need a few days to forget about it all. Then we'll be cool. He doesn't let hardly anything bother him.

"Alright, cool. Well, I guess I'll talk to you later then."

"Later, dude."

We hang up. And I am quite possibly more relieved now than I was when I found out that Shelly was moving away for college. Which was a joyous occasion, by the way. Kenny and I will be on good standings soon again. It's just going to suck waiting around for that to happen.

Getting through the week is going to be a bitch. I'll do my best to avoid Kenny. But I can't help but want to talk to him. I think I'll keep reminding him of why he is my best friend. Only best friend. Nothing else. I get up and sit at my computer. After staring at a blank screen for about fifteen minutes, the words begin to fly from my fingertips. I write the best damn poem I have ever written, titling it _The Reason_. It is paying homage to why Kenny is an incredible friend, and how I know that this will just strengthen our friendship. I kind of have that song by Hoobastank in my head as I'm writing it, hence the title. Kenny is aware that I write poems, but he's never read any. I'll send this to him and he can see. I think I express myself better in writing anyway.

Things are starting to look up for me. Now, if I can pound out one of these poems for Kyle and get enough courage to give it to him. Nah, that will never happen.

I push myself away from the desk and sit back on the bed. Visions of Kyle invade my head as I drift off into a peaceful slumber.

Sometime later, I open my eyes, noticing it is dark outside. I focus my eyes on the red blur of the numbers on my alarm clock. 9:15. Huh. Not sure why mom didn't wake me up for dinner. I'm actually really hungry.

I shuffle my feet downstairs, only to see my entire family passed out in the living room. Mom, dad, even grandpa in his wheelchair. I shrug my shoulders and walk to kitchen to retrieve some food. Opening the fridge, I see a container of left over dinner. I warm it up, and scarf it down, before going back upstairs. Should probably do some homework. I can use this week of school without my friends to catch up on some much-needed schoolwork.

About three hours later, I wake up in a panicked state. I jolt myself from the desk, where I must have fallen asleep. Darting my eyes around the room, I have this strange sense of paranoia. Like I'm not alone. Could have something to with the dream I just had. That there was someone out there…picking off the people I love one by one. And they were coming for me, allowing me to stay until the last one so that I would be afraid. But I tried my best to mask my fear. And then I was running…

That's when I woke up. I really hate my dreams. I don't know what that means. I should call up Kenny and get him to look it up on that dream book of his. He's got all sorts of that shit. His mom believes in karma and she arranges his room in something called Feng-Shui? I don't know, has something to with the spirits and object placement. If he tells me about it, I get freaked out. My room has the worst arrangement according to those standards. Maybe that's why I have such bad luck.

But I can't call Kenny. I got to let this whole thing play out without interference. I write my dream down instead, sending it to him on email. If he wants to respond, he will. If not, then I'll probably forget about it in five minutes anyway.

Do you think I'm too dependent on Kenny? I don't feel that way. He's just a huge part of my life.

---

I feel like I've had amnesia. This whole week has passed by in one big blur. I've tried hard to focus on my studies, asking for extra credit in all the places I need and continuing to avoid my friends. Except for Kyle, I have had no human friend contact since Monday. Kyle's been weirdly staring me down, acting all strange. He has briefly started up conversations, but they are muffled and jumbled and…he's just acting really odd. The way I look at it, he's fallen for Kenny, and Kenny told him that I kissed him and now Kyle is keeping watch on me or something. But if he listened to Kenny further, Kenny would have told him how this freaked him out and he didn't kiss back and they can be together happy. If Kenny was gay.

I feel bad for Kyle. Sucks to like someone that will never like you back.

But the truth is, at this point in my life I've forced myself to get over it. I don't need that added stress in my life. It was only bringing me down. After the Christmas parties, I made a solemn vow to myself to forget about him. For the most part, I've been doing just that. Keeping myself busy with other projects and various tasks. Jimmy called me the other day to hang out, and I denied him cause I had to finish my Geometry homework. Whoa.

I don't think I've EVER turned down hang out time with a friend to do my homework. Is this whole debacle turning me into a melvin?

Oh well. None of this matters. It is Friday, and the Christmas flowers are going to be delivered last period. Kenny will see my light-hearted gesture, and he will laugh at my misfortunes and all will be well again. I know him. I just know that to be the case.

I've been bombarding him with letters. I left a big container of my mother's homemade chunky chocolate chip cookies in his locker, cause I know how much he loves them. She rarely makes them, and she made like four-dozen for some reason, so I decided to give him a generous portion. I saw him eating one the other day in study hall. We're not allowed to have food, but he brought the cookie in, and when I looked over to see him chomping it down, he raised it to me like he was giving me a toast. I smiled, satisfied, and went back to working on my Spanish.

He's coming around. The nod of approval for the cookies means that he is grateful for what I've done. I'm sure he'll thank me when he gets the time.

I wish I had last period with him. I could see his face when he gets that stupid yellow flower, and it would be priceless. Instead, I'm stuck in Geometry with DJ, who keeps hinting that she wants to come over again. I'm not too fond about that idea. Nobody has found out about the last time, but if she does it again, its bound to make school headlines.

Football player Stan Marsh sacks school's leading whore, DJ Anderson. Whoa, shit, that was harsh. I'm sorry, but after she went back with me, she started spreading rumors about having sex with one of my friends, who I just happen to know has a girlfriend, is very happy, and would never touch her like that. Then she hit on Jimmy at another party, trying to get him to bed with her. I have zero respect for her, and am glad that I didn't mess around with her more than what I did.

Ten minutes until the bell. Teachers are scrambling around, trying to cover the last bit of information before we lose it all in our two weeks of vacation. I luckily had very little final exams to complete this year. Advanced Lit was an oral book review, which was unpleasant considering I fucking hate to read. Spanish was my hardest final, seeing that I know very little actual Spanish. Luckily, Mr. Jones felt it was necessary to tell the class about half of the answers, so I'm going to get a B in that class. Ask me to speak to you in Spanish? No way, dude. Don't know how.

We had our final in Geometry two days ago. Why, I don't know. But my teacher felt it necessary to cover two more days of useless information and not test us on it. Whatever, it means I really don't have to pay attention.

"What are you doing after this?" DJ asks me in a low, seductive voice. I can see that she is cold, and it makes me wish she wasn't such a slut. But I'm not about to go along with it.

"Well, I think Kenny and I will be back to speaking terms, so we're gonna probably hang out," I assume. Doesn't matter if its true or not, I'm NOT hanging out with her.

She frowns in disappointment and scoots her body next to mine so that her chest is resting against my elbow and upper arm. "You know, we can have a little fun of our own for a while if you know what I mean."

Did she really ask me if I know what she meant? Is there any other way to take that statement?

"Nah, I'm cool," I say casually. There is absolutely no use to keep up the flirty charade. I'm over her. I never was into her. It was all my stupid hormones. I sit up, removing my elbow from in between her chest. She, too, moves away in a huff. God, she's got to be like _the_ horniest girl I have ever met. If she can't have me, and she can't have Chris (my friend she made up the rumor about), and she can't have Jimmy, she tries for me again.

My eyes light up with excitement as I see the door crack open, and that very same sophomore girl who I signed the flower order up from walks into the room, holding a bunch of red, pink, and yellow roses. I know what the red and yellow stand for, but I'm not sure what the pink is about. The little girl walks around, handing out various flowers to the many students in class. Not everyone gets one.

She walks up to me and blushes deeply. Her hand extends to mine, holding a single pink rose. I accept it graciously, returning her gesture with a warm smile. She bashfully smiles and then walks to the next person, handing them a yellow rose.

I look up and down the rose for some evidence as to who it is from, but there is no card attached. No signature, no nothing. DJ looks over me and giggles, and it makes me wonder.

"Did you send this to me?" I ask her, wanting to know. I hope she didn't.

"Are you kidding? Those stupid roses are so lame." I am relieved to hear her take on the subject, and my eyes search around for answers. The little girl keeps looking back at me, and I wonder. I wonder…did she send it to me? I want to find out.

After the bell rings a few minutes later, I gather my books and head in the direction of the Christmas Flower booth that has been up all week long. Sure enough, the little girl is there, gathering her last minute supplies and shutting everything down. The hustle of all my schoolmates makes it hard for this to be a private moment, but I try anyway.

As I approach her, I realize I don't even know her name. "Uh…hi." I say, unsure of how to act like I do.

She looks up from packing everything away and immediately snaps into the shy mode she's been around me all along.

"I just wanted to know if you know who sent me this flower." I pause, and then add, "Cause whoever did it is very sweet."

She looks away from my face, blushing at the tiled flooring. Is that my answer? I think I should try for more.

"I'm sorry," I confess. "I didn't catch your name."

Her eyes light up and she gazes dreamily into my eyes. This must be a big deal, a senior guy talking to her. But she's cute, so I don't see why that wouldn't happen anyway. "Mary," she announces loud and clear.

I give her a half smile. "Okay, Mary. Do you remember who asked to send me a rose?"

She looks deeply into my eyes when she says, "Yes."

I swallow hard, and the entire world is silent around me. I feel like I'm pulling her teeth to get a simple answer out. "Who was it?"

"Um…I was told not to tell." Okay, it is definitely her.

I lean into the desk, propping up my arms with my knuckles. "Look. Mary. I don't want to hassle you, but it is imperative that you tell me." I love when I use big words in my speech. Makes me feel important and smart.

She shakes her head slightly. "I promised I wouldn't tell."

"If you tell me who it is, I might return this kind person's gesture somehow. Like a date or something."

Her eyes shine with happiness. She smiles, but her smile quickly fades. "I promised."

I shake my head. This is getting nowhere. I have to be more blunt. "Mary, did you send me this flower?"

The look on her face is a mix of confusion and shock. What? I don't think it's too strange of a question. "It wasn't me," she speaks quietly. "Though I wish it were."

Whoa! Haha, the shy little girl is not so shy anymore. It is my turn to blush. "Thank you. So you're really not going to tell me, are you?"

"He made me promise not to tell." And with this, her eyes expand and she covers her gaping mouth with her hands. "I mean…I mean," she backpeddles.

I start laughing out loud. Kenny is amazing. Hahaha, he had the SAME EXACT IDEA as me. "Thanks, Mary. I know who it is now. You have a great day." I cheerily jog to my locker, where I spy Kenny on the opposite wall. He is holding a yellow flower and has a cookie in his mouth. He kept my container in his locker this whole time. He looks to be struggling with putting books from his bag to his locker as I walk up to him.

"Dude, that was incredible. How did you even know I was going to send you that?"

He turns to me, mouth full of cookie. His eyes look at me like I said something way out of line. "Huh?" he says, muffled by the baked good.

"The flower! How did you know? Nice touch, not sending the card. Let me guess who it was," I say in all smiles. Kenny and I are back to normal again.

He finishes the bite he is on and takes the cookie out. "Dude, I have no idea what you are talking about. But I did get your…uh…gift." He holds out the flower, as if to show me what gift he is referring to. My eyes grow dim and my smile turns into a frown.

"You…didn't send me a pink rose?"

Kenny busts out laughing. "No!" He laughs some more, bruising my ego. Is it that hard to believe someone would send me a flower? Wendy used to send them to me all the time. I didn't even think about her. But Mary said it was a boy. A boy…not Kenny…

"Oh," I say, a little delayed.

"Ha, you think I would be that gay?" he says, still laughing. I stand accused, pointing to the flower he held in his hand.

"Am _I_?"

Kenny stops laughing and just smiles. "I guess so." He shuts his locker. "If I didn't know any better, the dozens of letters, the poems, the cookies, this flower…I'd think you were trying to win me over," he says with a wink and grin. And like that, Kenny and I are cool again.

"Maybe I am," I say, with a hint of mischief in my voice. It's nice to have him back. Still, I'm curious as to who could have sent me that damn flower. I rack my brain for answers. Finally, it comes to me.

"Jimmy!" I say aloud. Kenny just looks at me strangely. We are walking out to my car—its implied I'm going to drive him home. "Uh…I mean, Jimmy's probably the one that sent it to me."

"Oh," Kenny replies, clearly uninterested. He walks beside me, buttoning up his coat and pulling a scarf over his nose. We walk to my car in silence.

"When will your car be fixed?" I ask as I open my car door, eager to catch up on our week without each other. He shrugs.

"Dunno. Whenever I get the money to pay for it," he replies bitterly.

"Fair enough," I state, and I drive Kenny to his house.

We part ways, making plans to hang out later on tonight.

Later comes sooner than later. As soon as I get home from dropping him off, he calls me up, asking me what I'm doing.

"Yeeees?" I sing into the receiver.

"Dude, come over now," is his simple reply.

I laugh. "I just dropped you off!"

"I know, but Mandy wants to hang out again and I don't wanna. If she sees that you and I are cool again, maybe she'll leave me alone. It's been hell this whole week trying to get away from her."

Ah, so I was wrong about Kenny stringing her along. Seems he really _doesn't_ like her anymore.

"So you want me to be your ever-mysterious lover who is back after our quarrel?"

"Yes. But remember, Stan. This is ALL pretend. You don't actually get to kiss me."

I make a face that he can't see. "I'll be over in five."

Kenny greets me at the door, darting his eyes around the outside, and then immediately shutting it, as if he is trying to keep the enemy away. He pulls me over until we could no longer be spotted from outdoors. "Dude! She's insane! She calls me every fucking day, wanting to hang out, wanting to be together. If I knew she was going to be this bad, I wouldn't have slept with her to begin with! You're going to have to do something for me."

I nod. "Anything."

"Act like you're my boyfriend."

I blink to see if I heard right. "What?"

"Its so simple. She already thinks we are too close, so I can use this week as saying you and I had a fight because you don't see why we can't be together, but our relationship is secret and I can't handle going on with this act anymore. Its great. Totally freak her out." He smiles and waits for my approval.

"You think of this one all by yourself, did ya?" I ask in disbelief. Just a few hours ago we weren't on speaking terms because I accidentally kissed him, and now he wants me to pretend to be his boyfriend?

"Shut up, asshole. Its my only way out!"

"How about telling her the truth?"

Something about the pleading look in Kenny's eyes lets me know that isn't an option. "Its only when she's around! I don't want the world thinking we're together."

I sigh. I DO owe him for my stupidity. "All right, I'll do it."

Kenny looks at me with relief. "Thank you thank you thank you! Okay, so she is going to come over soon, and I told Kyle to come over too because I didn't know that you were going to be here and I know its going t-"

"WHOA!" I say, stepping back with my hands up in the air. "No fucking way, dude."

"What?"

"Kyle! He hates me! I'm not playing your boyfriend around him. No way. Find another boyfriend. Make Kyle be your boyfriend! He likes you enough for it."

Kenny looks at me puzzled. "Whatever, he does not. Anyway, Kyle can't be my boyfriend because Mandy already knows that we had a big fight and…dude! The plan is fool proof! You have to go along!"

"Um…count me out. I'm not going to act like your boyfriend around Kyle."

"Why not?" Kenny asks, finally. "You said you were over him, right? What better way to show you're over him than by snuggling up to another guy? Hey, it could actually help out with you and Kyle's relationship. He won't feel weird around you cause you don't like him like that anymore."

Huh. Never thought about that.

"But what happens when he finds out that you and I aren't really a couple?" I ask, making sure Kenny's plan will surely work.

"Then you can tell him the truth. It was all because of Mandy. But dude, he won't care because you'll have acted like that so he knows that you are comfortable with it and you are over him and shit."

At this point, the fact that his last sentence made absolutely no logical sense doesn't bother me. I'm excited for this plan to play out as well. Maybe, just maybe, it could give me the edge I need to overcome Kyle and I's fall out.

"Okay. I'll do it."

"GREAT! They'll be over here in like five minutes."

"Alright," I say, preparing myself. "Hey, Ken?"

"Yeah?" he says as he's busy messing his hair to I guess look like we just messed around and making the couch all lumpy and stuff. Ha, he's a funny guy.

"To what extent are we going to play this out? Last time our lips touched, you looked like you were going to hurl."

Kenny shudders. "Lets not think about that. We'll go where the night takes us. I bought a few beers so it will take the sting away."

I practically run to the fridge, pulling out the beers. His parents are nowhere in sight, and even if they were, they wouldn't give two shits whether Kenny and I got wasted on their couch or not. I crack open the beer, chugging almost the entire contents within a few seconds.

When I look back on it, I have no idea what possessed me to kiss Kenny. Thinking about kissing him doesn't appall me, but it doesn't make me feel all warm inside either. I'm impartial to the whole situation. If we end up making out in front of this chick, I better have a lot of beers under my belt. Beer always makes you do crazy things anyway.

The doorbell rings, and I take a deep breath.

"Lets do this!" Kenny says, kind of like a lame pep up talk, opening the door to an all-to-happy Mandy. That smile on her face isn't going to last very long.

The night starts off pretty well. Kenny is overdoing it, sitting too close to me, playfully nudging me, and at times leaning back to stare at my profile. Before Kyle even shows up, he plays with my hair and hugs me. Mandy is, needless to say, shocked and uncomfortable, but the poor girl sits through the whole ordeal. In the back of my head, I'm laughing the whole time.

By the fifth or sixth beer, Kyle shows up. Kenny doesn't even bother leaving my side to greet the new guest. He simply latches onto my arm with his, as if we are talking about our wedding plans. If he and I were truly together, he would be the girl. No questions asked.

"Hey Kyle!" he gushes, overly gay. "Take a seat next to Mandy over here. So happy to see you could make it!" I'm pretty sure he has adapted a lisp and sounds a bit like Big Gay Al.

I watch Kyle as he makes his way to the other side of the room. He looks at me with disgust. Probably because I'm in the room. I take another swig of beer, and remain attached to Kenny.

"What are you up to, tonight, Kyle?" Kenny asks.

"Uh…well…I've over here for now," he replies, but something is distracting him. His eyes are glued to Kenny and I's intertwined arms. Even when he speaks to us, he is talking to our arms.

"Any plans for later?"

"No…not…really."

"Oh, that's super!" Oh my God, Kenny did not just say that. I feel like covering up my face in embarrassment. He's only my pretend boyfriend, and he's already managed to embarrass me several times! "Stan and I don't have much planned either. We were probably going to stay in, rent a movie, you know."

"One of those gushy romantic flicks that Kenny loves so much," I add in. Making up this lifestyle is fun for me. I can make Kenny out to be a total fruitcake. I pinch his face and smile sweetly. He giggles like a little girl and tightens his grip.

"Anything for you, Stanny." Hahaha, wow. We are either really, really great at this acting out thing, or we are really horrible. In my opinion, we are overdoing it big time. But the look on Mandy's face is enough to keep Kenny going. He's relentless. I know this charade won't end until she walks out that door.

Kyle's stare remains fixed. "Yeah." His expression changes to confusion, and he looks up to our faces, namely me. "Wait. You guys are…together?"

Kenny and I glance at each other, our expressions dreamy. "I wanted to tell you, but I couldn't find the time," Kenny says, winking. The wink is probably to let Kyle know we are kidding, but instead Kyle shifts uncomfortably into the couch just like Mandy. I'm starting to think this isn't such a great idea after all. I could possibly further alienate him. He will find out we are pretending, and he could be offended. But I won't let Kenny down, and so we press on.

Kenny makes up this elaborate story of how after the Christmas party, instead of him catching up to me while I was in a rage and crying my eyes out, he caught up to me, and I confessed that I was sad that nobody wanted to kiss me with the mistletoe. And Kenny wasn't sure why I had left, but he was overcome with such emotion he broke down and expressed everything to me. Then, the whole time we weren't talking was because we weren't sure if it was a good idea to date and so we were taking time apart. But then I sent him the rose and he knew it was stupid to not try this out, so we've been too busy making out before they got here to even care how we look. We're just so happy together; it's like finding your soul mate.

His story is actually pretty believable. But it contradicts lot of what he told Mandy before Kyle even got here. So I just shut my mouth, making the appropriate hand gestures and nods when needed. Kyle looks on to us in shock. I think he's pissed that I "took" Kenny away from him. Mandy looks on the verge of tears.

I don't know why Kenny is going through all of this. Its almost as if he planned it all out, and typed it up and rehearsed it before I came over. I hope he didn't. My vision grows blurry, and I don't want to play this anymore. It's not fun. Not after seeing the look of devastation on Kyle's face. Probably mirrors the look I had on my face when he made out with Jimmy.

I feel bad about all of this. I'm sad that Kyle likes Ken so much that I am probably breaking his heart by stroking Kenny's arm. I can tell he is a little less than comfortable with this whole situation. I want to run over and tell him it's all pretend. Instead, I get up and head for another beer.

In the other room, I hear raised voices of Kenny and Mandy arguing. I hear her get up off the couch, and she walks out the door. Kenny follows her.

I hear angry footsteps behind me. Swiftly, I turn around to a furious Kyle. Oh God, is he going to beat me up for Kenny? My eyes are so glazed over; it's hard to tell what he's doing here.

"So you and Kenny, huh?" he growls. He is definitely very angry. And this is one of the first times he's sought me out alone to talk in like…a month.

I don't answer. I'm a little frightened by his behavior. I don't want to lie anymore.

Kyle slowly nods his head, takes a deep breath, and looks up to the ceiling. "I see. So I guess you never really did like me, did you?"

Whoa. I'm confused.

"I guess this whole time you never liked me as much as you thought, did you? I mean, if you can write letters and poems and give him a fucking flower, then I guess your whole liking me was just a phase, huh?"

What?

"A phase that was over after you kissed Kenny."

WHAT!

"You know, when I found out you liked me, it freaked me out a little, cause I didn't think of you like that. But then you fucking got me to fall for you, and it was all for nothing!"

Wait. What!

"I can't believe this. I'm out of here," he says violently, walking over to the single yellow rose in the vase on the table. "Enjoy your _pink_ rose," he mutters with extra emphasis on the word 'pink', and storms out of the kitchen in a big huff.

Wow. Did that really just happen? I shake my head in disbelief. Did Kyle really just get that jealous? Did he really just tell me he has _fallen_ for me? Holy shit, dude.

I find a chair quickly and sit down, trying to soak this all in. Okay, that plan sucked. Way to go Kenny. Kyle hates me now more than ever.

Only he doesn't. Matter of fact, Kyle doesn't hate me at all.

Kyle likes me. Kyle likes me a lot. I smile to myself. This is the best news I've heard in a while! Now all I have to do is explain to him that it was all just pretend and get him for my own.

Suddenly, the impossible isn't so far out of reach.


	9. Don't Stop Believing

Sorry about the lack of update for this chapter, guys. It is the last chapter, and I'm truly excited that you liked this story so much. I felt as though it was beneficial to address a few things before you read it, and so here goes. If you're only interested in the story, proceed to scroll downward until you see the chapter begin.

As I mentioned during the first chapter's notes and a little bit throughout, this was based on personal experience. I'm going to go one further to let you guys know that, up until chapter 7, this was pretty much a direct excerpt of my life (a few modifications of time and places and events to fit more with the 18-year-old boy's life style). The truth is, the real life situation didn't turn out so easily or nicely. Matter of fact, it didn't turn out at all. I'm not emo, or goth, or whatever you call it in real life either. Normally I'm a pretty happy girl. This is one situation that tore me apart, and I'm actually thankful its over. I thought writing about it helped me, but it may have, in fact, made it worse. Sharing my experience with the world made me realize what I don't have.

The characters in this story are not fictional. For the most part, they are also a direct influence of my real life friends. For those of you who are wondering, no, I never kissed the real-life Kenny. If you're not wondering that, well, now you know. On the contrary, it was a little hard for me to pick this story back up after the real-life events unfolded the way they did, and the real-life Kenny and I came up with a solution to keep it interesting. Once I started with that idea, all the rest of it came into place. But it has lost the whole real-life influence completely at the end.

My friends are a huge part of my life. I wish more of them would read this story to see how important they are. It was such an interesting challenge to base all of the characters in this story off of one of my friends, yet still keep their South Parkesque qualities. I hope I did a decent job at finding a good balance.

I've already conjured up ideas for another story, and hopefully I will be able to start on it before the New Year. I will be student teaching in the spring, and my time will be limited substantially. I hope to continue writing, especially for my fans. You guys are great, and I thank you so much for each and every review. I'm sorry to put you through the torture of my cliffhangers and plot twists, but I guess that's what kept you reading, eh?

One last thing.

Kenny...dansyngqueen…you are my best friend and whatever is going on right now is ridiculous. I don't want Christmas to start like this. Please don't let it.

----- 

Chapter 9- **Don't Stop Believing**

I lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling, counting all of the directions the little patterns go. Once I get to about 10, I lose track, forget what I'm doing, and attempt to start over again.

Really, the only thing my mind is focused on is the events of earlier this evening. I blink, trying to refocus on a particular pattern in the shape of a giraffe in a time machine. Oops, lost it.

Did Kyle really say those things? Was it my imagination, or did he tell me that he has fallen for me? I can't be too sure—I have been wrong before. My stupid dreams are so realistic I could have dreamt Kyle said those things. Only, if I was dreaming, I think the way he said them would have been a bit more romantic.

I _was_ pretty drunk. Maybe he said something about falling for Kenny. Maybe he wasn't talking about falling for anyone at all. Why was he so angry about that stupid flower? Unless…

WAIT! Yes. Yes, my mind has just now done the math. Kyle gave me the mystery flower! It was Kyle who thought about me and secretly came up to that little girl Mary and made her promise not to tell me! Kyle DOES care about me! Kyle DOES like me…

Wait a minute!

Kyle likes me! Dude! DUDE!

I sit up straight in my bed, overcome with such indescribable emotion, like one of those light bulbs above my head have just switched on. I'm such a dumbass! I just let him go! After he told he has FALLEN for me! Wow. This is sensational news! Incredible! Unbelievable!

Terrifying!

How am I _ever_ going to get him to talk to me again? I fucked up pretty bad, didn't I? Yeah, Kenny's brilliant plan sure put me in the doghouse. I have no idea where to go from here. No idea how to get Kyle to even talk to me again. I guess I can start by calling him.

No. I don't want to call him. That's not a grand enough gesture. Kyle is too worth it to screw it up with a lousy phone call. I can't believe he likes me! When did this start happening? Why didn't he tell me? Is this why he's been acting weird lately? Cause he didn't know how to handle it? Why did he make me believe that he liked Kenny? Ah! I have so many questions that need answered. And only he can answer them.

Why hasn't he been talking to me? That's a weird way to show someone you like them. Hmmm…guess Kyle isn't as perfect as I have made him out to be.

Doesn't matter though, I'm still crazy for him! I was lying before. I have never been over him. I've just forced myself to not think about him. But you knew that, didn't you.

Oh shit! I have to tell Kenny! After Kyle stormed out, I was in such a daze that I sat at the table until Kenny came in, and he told me about all the problems his "master" plan created for him and Mandy and, by the time he was finished, I had completely forgotten the fact that moments ago, Kyle was standing before me, angry and mad jealous because he thought I was dating Kenny! I left after I sobered up, not telling him anything. Whoa. That's really strange. Does that mean that I don't like Kyle as much as I think I do?

Nah. Its cause I was in too much shock.

I have no idea what to do now. Its 1:45 in the fucking morning. It would be insane for me to go over to his house. I'll have to wait until morning. But gaaaah I can't wait until morning! I want to run over there now!

No. No. I have to sleep on this. Come up with some sort of plan. A plan to get him to listen to me, to forgive me, and to reward me with kisses.

I gasp. I might actually get to _kiss_ Kyle. And I won't be dreaming either! HOLY SHIT, DUDE!

I have to go to sleep. I just have to!

—three hours pass—

Okay, no such luck. It's not going to happen. My teeth chatter, and I stare wide-eyed at the very same ceiling that hasn't moved since I last looked at it. No color changes, no movements, no tricks, nothing. It's the most uninteresting thing I have ever seen in my life. Yet, somehow I have managed to find entire scenes within the patterns. There is a steamboat with a bell and a woman waving goodbye to her husband with a handkerchief. And there is a little boy with an ice cream cone that a dinosaur is trying to eat. And there is a small egg with a chicken that is protecting it from a big and scary spider.

I have officially gone insane.

Why isn't it morning yet! Kyle can't possibly be up now. I wonder what he is doing. I wonder where he is. Probably sleeping like a little baby, the way the rest of the normal world is. Its just Stan Marsh who can't go to sleep. I'm alone in the world once more.

But I won't be for long! Because you know who is going to forgive me and I am going to be forever happy! NOW I sound like a stupid girl planning out her wedding with a guy whose last name she doesn't even know. I have got to stop this right now. Perhaps if I drink some warm milk. Or maybe if I knock myself out with a baseball bat…

I quietly and nervously make my way to the bathroom. Once I flip on the switch, I stare in horror at the bloodshot bastard staring right back at me.

"He likes you," he tells me. This I already know. He is smiling, regardless of how hellish he looks. The smile comes within; there is no escaping that.

"Kyle Broflovski likes you."

Yes. He. Does. I can't stop grinning like an idiot! I walk away from my mocking reflection, turning off the lights and heading downstairs. Perhaps a late night snack will fill me up and pass me out. Too bad I don't have alcohol on hand. A few shots of hard liquor and I'd be out like a light.

This is the turning point of my realizations. I realize, I know nothing. Nothing about how people feel, nothing about what people think of me, nothing of how the world views me. I have absolutely NO reason to feel alone, feel unloved, feel excluded. Because for whatever reason I feel those, there is someone out there who doesn't feel that way about me. AND THAT PERSON IS KYLE!

I do a little dance move on my way to the fridge. A little two-step kick that I learned from watching my mom at her dance classes when I was littler. It stuck with me, cause I thought it was actually kinda cool. Of course none of my friends have ever seen me do it. Or know I like it. I'm already gay enough as it is, I don't need them thinking I'm a total fag.

Maybe I am though. I mean, I do like Kyle. A LOT. And Kyle is...well…Kyle's a guy. What does this mean? Yeah I know, I've had _this_ realization before, but I'm just reiterating.

In the back of my mind, I hear music. A faint hum, too quiet to be my happy place music. It's my phone! Somebody is calling me at 5 in the morning? Who could it be? I race upstairs, unable to contain my curiosity. If it was Kyle, I think I'd shit a brick.

No such luck. Of course, who _would_ be the only person to call me at 5 in the morning?

"Hey Ken, what's up?" I breathe heavily into the phone, trying hard to sound casual. My heart is racing a thousand miles a minute at this point; Kenny probably thinks I'm training for a marathon.

"Sorry if I woke you man, but I HAVE to tell you about what just happened."

Now. Normally, it would be quite common for someone calling at 5 in the morning to wake a person up. But Kenny and me, we're on the same wavelength, you know? He knew I wasn't sleeping. Somehow.

"You didn't wake me up, dude. I haven't been able to sleep. At all."

Kenny's voice changes over to concern. "What? Why not?"

I shake my head but realize he can't see that. "No you go first."

"Uh…okay. Well, I just got back from Mandy's and she-"

"Whoa dude, you JUST got back from Mandy's? I thought you didn't want anything to do with her?"

"I didn't! But after you left, I felt like shit for being that mean to her, so I called her, you know to apologize, and some guy answered the phone!"

"So?"

"So! So she just left my house, and she was already with some other guy!" Kenny's words are fast paced and heavily breathed too, making me wonder what just happened.

"Alright. So what'd you do?" Its funny how he can get upset about her being with another guy after he literally pretended to have a boyfriend to get her away.

"So I went over to her house and confronted her." He pauses, I think for dramatic appeal.

"And?"

"And the dude was her brother! She was so upset, she couldn't answer the phone and so her brother did and he was pissed at me because I didn't tell her this shit sooner and I tried apologizing to him and her but that didn't work so I told him to get lost and that pissed him off even more so finally I-"

"Breathe, Kenny. Breathe." I remind him.

He breathes. "Thanks. So finally, I got her alone, told her everything, telling her I'm sorry for being such an ass."

"You told her the truth? How'd she take it?"

"Well, I just got home."

I stare blankly. Is that supposed to mean anything? "So?"

"So we made up."

I laugh to myself, shaking my head. "I thought the whole purpose of us acting that way was so that you could get rid of her!" I make sure my words are very clear and annunciated.

"It was, but when I was driving over there, I realized that how jealous I was over the guy meant I really _do_ like her."

Kenny is so beyond confusing. "OR it could mean that you are just a jealous guy."

"No."

I laugh even more. "Okay. So, you two are cool now?"

"We're cool now."

"Good." I pause, this time for my own dramatic appeal. "Hey Ken?"

"Yeah?"

"You are so fucking weird." I smile into the phone, and I can hear him do the same. But it IS weird! The fact that Mandy could be cool with him after he did something like that is weird. The fact that he did something like that in the first place is weird. The fact that he realized he was still into her is weird.

I guess no weirder than me falling for a guy. Who actually has fallen for me back. Oh yeah, Kyle! "Can I go now?" I ask him, eager, the words on the tip of my tongue.

"Oh yeah dude, sorry. Do you need to leave?"

"NO! Can I tell you my news now?"

"Oh! Yeah, go ahead," he says, uninterested.

I want to build him up with dramatic pauses and bring the whole story to a climax, but I just can't, so I blurt it out. "Kyle likes me!"

His tone changes from uninterested to on the seat of his chair too. "WHAT!"

And I go on with the story, leaving out bits and pieces that I can't remember because I was too drunk. Then I go into detail about not being able to sleep and then having the light bulb go off and my realization and then he called and, by the time I'm finished telling him everything, I'm exhausted. My eyes are droopy, and I say my goodbye to him before falling back down on my bed. Not but a few minutes later, I am off far away in the land of dreams. Dreams that are soon to come true.

---

It is time.

I stand here, in front of Kyle's front door. Two minutes after noon. I couldn't wait any longer than that.

The morning went by slowly. I woke up sporadically throughout the wee morning hours, forgetting where I was at and what was about to happen. Once I realized that I was about the get everything I've ever wanted, my smiling heart went fast to sleep once more. Even if it _was_ only for five more minutes.

I gave up on this charade about ten after ten o'clock. I've been twiddling my thumbs ever since. I mean, come on. If I showed up that early in the morning, how desperate would he think I was?

Don't answer that.

I take a deep breath and prepare to knock on the hard, wooden surface. God knows I've been standing on this stoop long enough to become part of the Hanukah decorations surrounding me. Sheila walked by once or twice, and I quickly plastered myself to the side of the house. I can't let her see me. Not until I'm ready to face Kyle.

Kyle Broflovski. The guy I've fallen in love with.

Kyle Broflovski. The guy who may just love me back.

Closed eyes. Racing heart. I knock on the door three times and wait patiently. With my luck, Kyle won't even be up and Sheila will have to go wake him up and tell him I'm here and he'll refuse my presence and I'll be all alone on this porch, watching my chance fly by right before my eyes…

I watch as Kyle's face appears, opening the door only partially. No invite, he stands cold on the welcome mat that leads into their house. His green eyes stare back at mine, a little darker than I remember. I notice dark circles under them. He is still in his plaid pajama pants and a gray nightshirt. His hair is sticking up in places, matted down in others. Once he recognizes the face in front of his as mine, he shifts his weight onto the leg that props open the door. He raises his eyebrows and shrugs his shoulders.

He looks so fucking adorable, I almost skip my apology and prepared speech to leap into his arms.

"Uh…hi…Kyle…"I start. Take a deep breath, Stan. This can be easy if you make it easy.

"Hi. Stan." His words are clear and separated. I'm grateful he hasn't slammed that door on my face yet. Still no invite though.

"Uh…can I come in?" I ask, not sure why I'm stuttering so much. God damn my nerves. If they don't get through this, I'm going to cut off their air supply.

Kyle remains in the same position. I can almost see the wheels turning in his head, contemplating my question. Slowly, he opens the door the rest of the way, making a gesture that isn't quite friendly, but I definitely don't turn it down either. I brush past him, on the way smelling that natural scent of his that sends me to the clouds. I can't _believe_ that he likes me back. I can't believe that I might actually get to kiss those pouty lips…

FOCUS Stan. Focus. "Kyle, I need to talk to you." Well, obviously. Otherwise I wouldn't be standing here. God, I'm so stupid sometimes. He makes an expression that allows me to believe he is thinking just that. So I continue. "Actually, I need to apologize to you."

"For not telling me you're with Kenny?"

I close my eyes. It all starts here. "No. For making you believe I was ever _with_ Kenny."

He squints his eyes, and I see their sparkle begin to return. He tries hard to hide it though, frowning and doubting my statement before. "Whatever."

I'm so anxious to tell him everything, I find myself walk up to him and place both of my hands on his shoulders. "No, it's exactly that, Kyle. Ken and I are _not_ together. We only acted that way to make that girl Mandy stop being so obsessive!" I say this in hopes that he will understand, even though I realize that someone looking in on that situation must think we're pretty fucked up.

"What," he says, more like a statement than a question. He backs up out of my reach, and it is then that I realize I'm probably holding onto his shoulders painfully tight.

I take a few steps back, regrouping myself. "Alright. Let me try my best to explain this. Kenny and I…okay. I…" Why am I finding this so hard to say? God, I just need to come right out and say everything! I look over to Kyle, who is getting impatient. I can tell by the way his throat keeps clearing and his eyes keep wandering beyond my face, to the room behind me. I close my eyes again. Sometimes it is easier for me to talk when I can't see that person.

"I kissed Kenny when I was confused and I don't know why but I don't like him like that. Things were weird between us because of that kiss. I missed him though, and I went a little letter crazy and everything to get him back to talking to me." I open my eyes to see if Kyle is still there and hadn't gone into another room. He is staring right back at me. The hard part is over. Now, for the Mandy thing. "Kenny was dating that chick Mandy but he didn't want to anymore. The day that we started talking again, he wanted me to act like his boyfriend so that it would make her stop wanting him or whatever."

"Was he the genius of that idea?" Kyle interjects sarcastically.

"Yeah," I say instantly. I see a faint smile form in Kyle's lips, and I know I am getting through to him. I shake my head. "Anyway, I agreed to it without knowing you were coming. When you showed up, the fact that you've been ignoring me…well I thought you liked Ken."

At this, Kyle's eyes go wide. "Really? Nah. I was just…ah, now it's my turn to apologize."

I look at him through clear blue eyes. "For what?"

"For making you think I liked Kenny," he says through his smile. I don't want him to apologize. I want him to kiss me.

"Its okay," I say, only slightly bruised from the whole situation. None of it matters anymore because Kyle is standing in front of me, his hands clenched at his sides, and I can see him slightly swaying back and forth. Is he thinking the same thing I am? I'm not sure.

"Stan. When I found out that you liked me, it was a little weird for me. Because...well, I didn't think you were like that. I didn't look at you that way. It took me by surprise." Knowing what came next makes this whole explanation sweeter. I look to Kyle, who in return sends me that life-altering smile of his.

"It took _me_ by surprise," I repeat. Kyle's stance is softening, and I can see his eyes trace the features of my face. "I've never…"

"I know," he finishes. His grin widens and then fades once again. "I guess throughout this, I was secretly hoping that all of those moments we had were worth something. I just pushed that thought out of my mind."

I think that is enough explanation. What now? I nod to Kyle, signifying my understanding and my strong want for this to all come to a head. No pun intended.

"So what do we do now?" he asks, as if reading my thoughts. The tension in the air is thick and anxious. And this time I can be SURE it is sexual tension. My insides are going to erupt from anticipation if neither of us makes any kind of a move soon. But this feeling is all the more worth it knowing he is feeling the exact same.

I decide to play the stupid and possibly cute card. "Well, we have a few options," I say, not moving from my position about five feet away from him. Oh, how I want to trash the conversation and capture him in my arms. I can't believe things are going so perfectly. Finally, Stanley Marsh gets a break. Finally, Stan gets what he wants. My life isn't so bad after all.

Kyle looks to me to continue. I'm pretty sure he knows that I'm delaying the inevitable, but I want to make him suffer. He'll want me more that way. Ever stand close to the person you care about, well aware of how both of you feel, but instead of giving in to the temptation just fuck around for a while and heighten the anticipation? When it's all said and done, we're going to explode with passion for each other. And I can't wait. But I can. And I am.

"I could…say good day to you, walk out this door, and we could hang out with each other sometime soon as friends."

Kyle makes a face, crinkling his nose, and it makes me smile. "OR we could go out sometime and see where things go," I continue, presenting all of my options. My speech is long and drawn out.

"OR you could stop stalling and come over here and kiss me." He lowers his face, keeping his eyes locked on mine. I open my mouth as if to speak, but no words come out. I am literally speechless and unmoving.

Kyle Broflovski. The guy who just told me to go over there and kiss him.

And I do.

I almost rush over, keeping my strides fast paced, almost knocking him over when I reach him about two seconds later. I capture his lips under mine, reaching one arm around to his back, and wrapping one arm to his neck. I slide up my hand into his soft, playful curls. My body melts at the touch of his small hands to my cheeks. His lips are soft but passionate as he hungrily returns my kiss.

I reposition my hands, picking him off the ground slightly. He's so small. He wraps his arms around my neck as I do this, our lips still intertwined. I can't stop kissing him. He tastes so good. I feel his tongue eagerly enter the perimeter of my mouth, searching out mine. I present mine. All of this is happening in slow motion. I'm surprised Ike, Sheila or even Gerald hasn't walked in to find their brother/son making out with another guy in their foyer.

Kyle's feet fall back down to the ground, and I feel the force of his body pushing up against mine. He slowly retreats his tongue, and our kiss ends. He pulls away just enough to rest his forehead against mine. I try to kiss him again, feeling his teeth against my lips. He's smiling. He's smiling big.

I smile too. He's everything I've ever wanted. Kissing a guy isn't that much different than kissing a girl. Anyway I don't look at it like that. I'm kissing Kyle. I'm in love with Kyle.

My dad once told me that deep within your soul, there are a whole bunch of secrets just aching to be freed. Some of them you don't even know about. Some of them, you don't _want _to know about. They tear you apart, but you know that they may only cause damage if they were to be unleashed onto the world. But I've found, through personal experience, _that_ is a bunch of bullshit. If you don't show them to the world, you will never find out the truth behind them. You will never find out what may happen. You may never get what you want.

As I lay on his bed, I stare up at the ceiling. It's a different pattern than I'm used to. I don't feel like looking anymore. I roll over, facing him. Taking his hands in mine, I delicately count each finger with my lips. I feel his warm breath increase in speed as I pull his hands away, bringing my lips to his own. At last, he is mine.

Kyle Broflovski. My boyfriend.

The End.


End file.
